On Step Four

This is the fourth in a series this year we’re covering in my weekly Y12SR session (Tuesdays 7 pm ET). Each month, I explore one of the 12 Steps through my own experience as a Yoga practitioner. What I’ve noticed over the years is that even if we may not identify as a person in recovery from addiction (of any kind: substance, process, behavior) it is a useful framework for looking at any behavior from which we seek freedom.

“Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.” 

Yoga, as I’ve been taught, recognizes five dimensions of being from the gross to the subtle- from the physical, to the psychological, to the spiritual- and in active addiction, often the physical and psychological parts are in charge. In my case I was feeding my body and minds’ primary needs for comfort and satiation. The other dimensions get lost in the shuffle of priorities along the way. In recovery, I was guided where to look to recover them. Step 4 was the beginning of that process.

I had made many searching, but fearful moral inventories of myself before getting sober- and they were all murky at best. I do remember having one clear thought, as I reflected on my life: “I don’t know myself at all.” I remember having conversations with people even in early recovery (here I’m thinking of 1-6 months) where the other person would say something they believed and I remember thinking “I have no idea whether that is true for me or not.” It was easy for me to chameleon-ize myself in social situations. I was good at being nice, friendly, even warm- but on the inside I was a mess. My relationships tended to be pretty shallow, because I’d never hold myself to account for staying in touch or deepening connection- I was too scared to do that. 

It turns out that my relational template was based on staying agreeable, peaceful, and “good”- among other things- because it meant that even if what was going on wasn’t great, it was better than feeling uncomfortable or unsafe or, worst of all, alone. The result was that I didn’t give myself the time to really get to know myself, because even in my active addiction, I knew that to know myself would mean expecting better of myself and others. And that was scary. Of course, I understand all of this now, but acknowledgement and acceptance had to come first, long before understanding would be possible. 

In my study of the intersections of recovery and Yoga, through Y12SR and in personal work- the steps are said to clear the vessel. This body, this being is a vessel. And this vessel can hold a lifetime of resentment, jealousy, avoidance, fear, self-centeredness- and, the most painful, deeply embedded anger showing up as either placating, enabling, or shutting down, or self-righteousness and harsh judgment. I learned to not have needs- or, when I finally had to express those needs, they came out as manipulation, expectation, and ultimatum. Others may or may not have seen this or felt it necessarily, because after all, in with the “bad” stuff I had a lot of great assets, too- I could be kind, loving, creative, enthusiastic, expressive, and devoted- but on the inside these patterns were eating me up. It’s said in 12 step recovery that resentments, for example, are the “number one offender” that destroy more alcoholics than anything else. 

When stuck in these long-held patterns of relating and being, it was obviously hard to find meaningful connection. And I really wasn’t aware what they were, so it would have been hard to change them. Awareness and honesty are a necessary starting point for change. 

Once I had support- through meetings, my practice, my first sponsor, and yes, an emerging relationship with a higher power- that foundation of love and trust made it possible for me to begin to get honest about all of this. It made it possible for me to focus on myself, my actions, and my behavior. So much of my resentments lay in expectations and disappointments in the way I felt others treated me, saw me, or thought of me. A lot of time, energy, and personal agency was lost in outsourcing my sense of self to the behavior of others, past and present. Not feeling in control of people and things made me feel more hopeless, and so it spiraled on and on. But I did have hope. A close recovery friend once said, and it sunk in: “Everything has a purpose, and nothing is ever wasted.” 

Over time, as I wrote out my fourth step, I noticed that with time I could learn to shift my priority from needing to be in control (which never really works- do I really think I get to manage other people that much?) to allowing things to unfold as they will, independent of my efforts. The humility I was learning in Steps 1-3 showed itself here, as did the faith that a deeper part of me (which I’d later call my Higher Power) was finding itself and coming into being, slowly but surely. Just being able to identify my part in those conflicts or relationships that had suffered was a huge part of Step 4 for me. It created a space between what I had done and who I was. I was not those things- those behaviors had served a purpose, but were now standing in the way of my recovery. 

My identity and self worth these days is less and less tied to the outcome of a situation- though of course, I’m not perfect. Steps 6-10 are about taking the opportunities that arise and amending (changing) our behavior when we recognize it. Boundaries eventually became an important part of this conversation too. For me, a boundary is a statement of humility. They protect both you and me from overreach and assumptions about each others’ experience. (I’d get there later as I learned to work with others.)

These days, in my recovery, I do my best to show up, be honest, be willing, be present, listen and act when necessary with wisdom, compassion and kindness. In order to get there, to get where I wanted to go, though, I had to be truthful about where I was. I had to identify the obstacles to those attempts to connect. I had to learn to connect with myself- and that meant being courageous enough to know myself. The fourth step made that possible- unlocking the cage that held my deeply protected heart- and the fifth step meant letting it out- and letting someone else in. 

Join me for The Brahmaviharas: Unlocking the Heart, a four-session Yoga, Writing and Recovery series starting April 13 and continuing on second Wednesdays through July 13. These are offered as single sessions on a drop-in basis, or as a continuing series. For more information, sign up here.

On Step Three

This is the third in a series this year we’re covering in my weekly Y12SR session (Tuesdays 7 pm ET). Each month, I explore one of the 12 Steps through my own experience as a Yoga practitioner. What I’ve noticed over the years is that even if we may not identify as a person in recovery from addiction (of any kind: substance, process, behavior) it is a useful framework for looking at any behavior from which we seek freedom.

“[We] made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.”

I’ve chosen to represent this step in its original wording in honor of the historical and cultural context during which the 12 Steps evolved- Akron, Ohio in the mid 1930’s, by two middle to upper class Christian white men and countless others getting sober around them. I think when we study literature (and Alcoholics Anonymous is, after all, literature) it is not only necessary but respectful to consider context. 

Yoga taught me that effort has an energy. Ease has an energy. I can be in effort, or ease, or both at the same time. I can over-effort and over-ease, too. Some situations require more strength and steadiness; others require more ease and softness. It’s like that on the mat and off the mat, in life. 

All of us come to the table with habitual ways of responding or reacting. Yoga and meditation show us where we resist, cling, grasp, or avoid. These lessons become a gift. In Yoga I learned to follow guidance I could feel inside how to approach situations in a way that creates less suffering. This guidance didn’t come from me, but from a power I understand that flows through me (and existed long before I did). 

It was this knowing that helped me take Step 3 more earnestly. In sobriety the blinders came off, and I was aware of my habitual clinging and grasping and avoiding. I had come by these honestly, as they were adaptations in my childhood nervous system. As I looked at the role of self-will in my own story, I learned that while many, if not most things are out of my control, my choice to become humble and teachable is not. And that decision to be teachable saved me in the end. It allowed me to let in a power greater than myself and in doing so, I begin to see all the ways my fearful patterns were keeping me from experiencing serenity and finding freedom. It turned out that drinking alcohol was only part of the problem- the tip of the iceberg. 

I don’t know any honest recovering person who claims to have had a one time, “lightning bolt” spiritual awakening that rendered them completely devout and surrendered and spiritually perfected. For most of us, it’s one day at a time, living our way into the next right, honest, good thing. I wasn’t born into a perfect world; this is the one I get to practice in. This is the world where, daily, I must face what is in front of me, and make a decision to act as if there is a design, a purpose, a trajectory and a story that I can’t see yet and my job is to stay in the frame, stay in the game, stay on track and stay in the flow.

Nikki (Myers, founder of The Yoga of 12 Step Recovery) says that sustainable recovery is an energy management game. The effort for me today is finding and maintaining a peaceful and continuous flow of energy. Yoga and meditation and being in community- all the while staying teachable- are the keys to that peaceful and continuous flow of energy. It’s dedication- showing up, doing my best and letting my best be good enough- that makes this work sustainable. I’m grateful to have reached that understanding at the point in my life that I did. Experience has shown me that any time I resist, any time I force things, or withdraw in anger or resentment, that flow is interrupted and it can take a long time to find it again. 

My instinct is to try to control things through action or even inaction. With this step I began to truly surrender - which is not the same thing as resignation. Many people get stuck at this phase because change is not easy. Letting go is not easy. This step prepares us to be led in the next few steps through the thickness and heaviness of our dis-ease and to begin to look at the habits of our minds. But we need not get stuck. The flow is right at our fingertips- and in our toes, in our spines, in our hearts, right in our breath. And we can always start over, moment by moment. Freedom is available in this breath, and this one, and the only way I know out of suffering is through the flow of things. 

This doesn’t mean I don’t experience anger, judgment, disappointment, or other hard or negative emotions. It means I understand the proper role of emotion- as energy in motion.  My job is to maintain my practice so that energy has somewhere to go. In other words, I have to act as if I have faith and trust in a power greater than myself to take care of things. I also acquire agency, as I get to discern what is worth my energy. This is the “proper use of the will” described in 12 Step literature. By being in the flow, and trusting in it, I can let go of things that are not essential. This frees up my energy to be of service, which is really where the joy lies in recovery, as we find in the later steps. The joy and the freedom of wise effort. 

Sending love,

Dana

We have four more weekly Yoga, Writing and Recovery sessions on Sunday evenings, 7-8:30 pm ET: March 6, 13, 20, and 27, 2022. If you’re interested in meditating, moving and writing with me, sign up here.

On Step Two

This is the second in a series this year we’re covering in my weekly Y12SR session (Tuesdays 7 pm ET). Each month, I explore one of the 12 Steps through my own experience as a Yoga practitioner. What I’ve noticed over the years is that even if we may not identify as a person in recovery from addiction (of any kind: substance, process, behavior) it is a useful framework for looking at any behavior from which we seek freedom.

“[We] came to believe that a power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.” 

At some point it becomes necessary to look at the current state of affairs and see what is working and not working. Some of us experience burnout, we get sick and tired of being sick and tired, or we experience consequences because of our behavior. In my case it was all of the above. I believed if I drank enough green smoothies and did a perfect downward dog, I’d somehow karmically balance the years of drinking alcohol- which was really just a way of managing a dis-regulated nervous system which helped me survive times in my life that otherwise might have taken me down. And later, I came to know that Yoga on its own was not enough. I needed to look more closely at my patterns and take more action. And I needed help with that. 

I’ve talked about how I could not imagine my life without alcohol but that I could not go on that way for one more day. There’s a lot to that, but I’ll just say I needed a new way of looking at life, a new plan. I knew that what I was doing was slowly killing me. I needed only to look at my mother’s example. Between the ages of 46-48 she was experiencing a progression of health problems: bloating, loss of balance, and an inability to eat food without feeling sick; then later, jaundice, stomach bleeding, weakness, disorientation, hallucinations and hospitalization; and finally, a swift and terrible decline, hospice, and death. She destroyed herself. She was 50 years old, and at 25, I no longer had a mother. 

At age 38 I looked out, ahead, at my own life and I could see that while the progression of my disease might be a little slower -thanks, green smoothies and downward dogs- that eventual end was inevitable. My mother was one of a line of female alcoholics on her side. I’ve lost many women in my family to this disease and I did not want to lose myself. I had to find a way to care for myself and get better. 

How do we come to believe things? One way is spending time with people who seem to be possessed of certain skills, attitudes, habits and ideas that are appealing or helpful to us. In their presence we learn what seems to work and what does not. Over time we come to believe that we could be like them, and we’re willing to follow their way. We become believers. Of course, this sort of group dynamic can be of benefit or of detriment, as has been humanity’s way. But what I saw in recovery circles were people who had been in great pain and isolation getting better, practicing devotion to the greater good, and being of service to others, in big and small ways. I saw people living peaceful, contented lives free of alcohol and drugs, and I wanted that. I could see that whatever they were doing could benefit me. 

I also saw a wide spectrum of expression of the same basic ideas- people were working the steps of recovery in their own way, at their own pace and according to their own perspective. It didn’t matter if you followed a strict interpretation of a concept, or a more flexible one. It didn’t matter if you worked with a whole lot of people or just a couple of like minded souls. It didn’t matter what you believed in, so long as you were sold on the idea that this work is worth it. And though we were different, I found a way to feel welcomed. These people loved me until I could love myself and believe that I’m worth it. I belong here and I can be restored to sanity. From watching and listening to others whose lives were changing for the better, I came to believe that without this help, I’d quickly fall back on the same behaviors. I had to do the work- I was aware of that- but I also had to become free from the idea that I could do it solely on my own. 

Now, about sanity. The notions of “sane and insane” seem a bit antiquated perhaps. We don’t think of mental illness or disturbance in such harsh terms today, thank goodness. I’ve often heard “insanity” defined as something like “repeating a behavior again and again and expecting a different result.” Continuing drinking or using drugs to medicate or manage our lives believing that things will somehow get better seems a bit insane in the strictest definition of the word. In active, advanced addiction the body and brain are affected and the choice to use or not use is often long gone, as it was for me. I made (and broke) promises over and over to myself to change my behavior. I’d been playing the game long enough to know that no lasting change could come unless I came to believe something different. I was so exhausted by the time that I arrived that honestly, I would have believed just about anything. So I was willing to listen. And listen, I did. A lot. 

We need examples of people in recovery. We need to know what it looks like. Many of us did not arrive with those examples before us. Some of us came from addiction, dysfunction, generational trauma and unchecked harm- often because those people too did not have any examples of how to do better. But because I had Yoga teachers (Rolf and Nikki) who were longtime recovering people, I became sold on the idea of inherent worth and wholeness and I could see that the practices of Yoga and the 12 Steps could restore that wholeness, and I was worthy of the effort. We’re all worthy of that effort. (Spoiler alert: I also came to believe that my ancestors were teaching me lessons, all the time. Nothing was wasted- it was all precious information. I just needed to listen and hear their message differently- and I would come to do so, in time.) 

I learned to listen (mostly) more than I speak, for a while, and eventually, I honed the skills necessary to know and speak the truth as I’d lived it. That took time. It was uncomfortable at times and I squirmed and resisted believing in a power greater than myself- after all, I had self-managed and self-medicated and self-soothed and self-helped myself near to death. Coming to believe began as the simple idea that this work is worth it. I’m worth it. There had never been any love for myself- only a useless flogging of what I hated about myself, what I had rejected. But the end of the story had not been written yet. Without knowing what was to come next, I came to believe that a power greater than myself could restore me to sanity, whatever that meant. I knew it in my mind. By loving myself as others were loving me, by moving more intentionally, kindly, lovingly, in my own life and my own recovery, I’d come to know it in my heart, too. 

Sending love,

Dana

We now have regularly scheduled Yoga, Writing and Recovery sessions on Sunday evenings, 7-8:30 pm ET. If you’re interested in meditating, moving and writing with me, sign up here.

On Step One

This is the first in a series this year we’re covering in my weekly Y12SR session (Tuesdays 7 pm ET). Each month, I explore one of the 12 Steps through my own experience as a Yoga practitioner. What I’ve noticed over the years is that even if we may not identify as a person in recovery from addiction (of any kind: substance, process, behavior) it is a useful framework for looking at any behavior from which we seek freedom.

“We admitted we were powerless over ___ and that our lives had become unmanageable.”

In Y12SR we say, “As humans we are a vessel… and addiction turns our vessel upside down.” The vessel is said to contain our vital energy, our prana, our innate embodied spirit. The ancients saw no difference, no separation between the physical, energetic, mental, character, and spiritual bodies. In addiction all of these are affected to larger and lesser degrees. What we have done to ourselves during the course of our addiction- whether to people, to behaviors, or to substances- damages many if not all these bodies at the worst- and at the least, causes separation and great pain. There’s often an inner war within ourselves- a split distancing us from the life we would deeply desire the most, and an outer war- from those who love us- and from spirit itself. In the first few steps we are beginning to right the vessel.

I invite you to let your vessel drop anchor, receive the grounding that is beneath you, beneath the turbulence. Breathe in, and breathe out.

Awareness of some fundamental, often uncomfortable truth is truly the key to the first step- awareness and the willingness to admit that truth to ourselves. One of the most beautiful things I’ve ever witnessed is the truth a person expresses when she says, “I’ve never said this before, but I’m an alcoholic.” The reason it’s so beautiful is that I can see what sometimes they themselves cannot see, often through tears: the possibilities that lie ahead are beyond that which any of us can imagine. The freedom that becomes available to us when we admit the truth about ourselves is boundless- it’s empowering to admit powerlessness because it opens us up to healing, integration, and wholeness. I’ve been privileged over the years to sit in the presence of such beauty many, many times.

When I admitted powerlessness over alcohol I was invited to consider my life and the conditions I was arriving with. I was asked to consider what is the cost of my drinking? It had cost me a lot. What had I lost? I had lost a tremendous amount. What was it like? It was unimaginably painful and I could not find a way to live like that anymore. I was terrified to die and found myself living in fear. And yet, I was still afraid that without it, I couldn’t live either. I felt trapped. I was powerless over alcohol and my life had wired itself around it. I could not live without it and could not see a way to live one day longer with it. Life had become unmanageable.

While it was tempting as it often is to immediately consider all the reasons I had fallen into this predicament- in my case, society’s attitudes and permissibility toward alcohol, the shame and stigma around female alcoholism, my family history of alcoholism, generational trauma- for a time, I had to get very, very micro-focused, just looking at myself and my behavior, my actions, my life- the Serenity Prayer begins to come to mind. What could I look at, what could I imagine changing and what would I have to let go of, for now? There’s time later to focus on the macro causes and conditions in which addiction can thrive. For now, at this stage in Step 1, just focusing on the personal cost is enough, and often, an overwhelming task. (Fortunately, once we’ve admitted the truth in Step 1, Steps 2 and 3 come along to offer us support in getting our vessel upright in the water again.)

Some of us are starting out anew in the new year or at this point in our lives, and some of us are “branching out” and applying what we learned in recovery to other areas of our lives that we know are out of balance. Or perhaps we are playing the game of “whack-a-mole” and food, or shopping, or relationships have slipped in into the place of the addiction from which we’ve been recovering. And we can feel it. Perhaps that vessel has started to leak or to tilt and we want to right the ship.

An important part of this, for me, was learning the dignity in truth telling. There is dignity in sitting with uncomfortable truth. There is grace in admitting where we’ve gone off kilter. There is power in presence- the glow and the vitality that grows when we sit in the truth, let it wash over us, decide how we’re going to move forward and begin to talk about where we’re going next. Sitting in the presence of truth in meetings in the early days moved something in me, like the breath- I could feel the sensation inside, the tears, the lump in the throat, the tightness in the chest- today I say this was my higher power moving in my heart, opening me up to something very important, and I knew to pay attention. Those sensations, we learn, are information, vital information about ourselves, the truth that can only reveal itself when we are willing, when we let it. And once we know that truth, once we admit it, we are never really the same.

Sending love,

Dana

I’m currently creating some regularly scheduled Yoga, Writing and Recovery sessions and if you’re interested in meditating, moving and writing with me, sign up here.

On 2021 (so far)

Last week at the close of the year (which, true to form for our age, felt like a year ago itself), I posted this prayer, really, to mark a moment in time and my own aspirations for the year ahead. I usually use the pronoun I rather than we because I can only claim to speak for myself, but a prayer is intended to ask a question, or make a request, and I’d be disingenuous if I said I want to feel this way alone, in my bubble, away from others who might be reaching for the same thing. I know that while physically distanced, I am not, in fact, in a bubble and that I need community for my own health (and survival, really).

I say all this knowing I can’t expect or demand my prayer to be answered (or fulfilled at all, actually) by Spirit- what I can do is look at my interior and exterior world each day and ask myself, does how I show up measure up to my aspirations and prayers? This for me is where humanity and spirituality find their most potent alchemy. It’s in human action, motivated by our highest ideals, aspirations, and ethics.

Here’s a summary. May…

• we never again be led into the illusion of separation, and may we remain ever mindful of our interdependence

• our awareness of both our shortcomings and our gifts set a sure foundation of humility and grace

• our expression of … love be shown in acts of radical self-study, reconciliation and a renewed commitment to honor and serve you, through our service to all beings

• we reveal ourselves courageously and respectfully to each other in ways that remind us we’re all on this journey together

• we see clearly the truths to come before us

• we abide with equanimity amidst times of both turmoil and harmony

• we act with a depth of wisdom and compassion that comes with daily, lifelong practice

There’s more, but you get the gist.

So how are we doing, folks? We’re a week in to the new year so let’s tally the results.

• We saw a continued, shaky rollout of Covid-19 vaccinations and a pharmacist arrested for sabotaging over 500 doses of the Moderna vaccine in Wisconsin based on conspiracy theories.

• Georgians elected two new Senators (thank you Queen Stacy Abrams, for your fearless, fierce leadership in remaking the entire structure of voter registration in the state- you are a model for all of us to follow)- one, a Jewish man, and the youngest Senator since 1972, and the other, the first Black Georgian Senator in history. This will shift power (more on this in a future post- it’s incredibly important) to the left and render Biden more able to advance his domestic priority agenda on climate change, Covid-19 pandemic policy and infrastructure; on racial justice and voting rights and economic relief.

• The political landscape of the last four (plus) years crystallized yesterday at the Capitol and affirmed there are truly two Americas. But the comparison to Black Lives Matter protests isn’t really accurate or fair. We may think we’re comparing apples to apples, but it’s a whole different fruit, says Overcoming Racism in a recent Instagram post.

• And on the subject of two Americas, somehow, amidst the violence stoked by our sitting President and the downward spiral of economic insecurity for millions upon millions of Americans, the stock market hit a new high (I think) yesterday for a bit. I’ll leave it to the wisest economists to explain how this is possible, but I suspect that it’s capitalism at its finest.

And friends, this is the shortest of lists. I’m thinking of the many stories of personal triumphs and tragedies that get buried or go unreported.

Here’s a few on my end.

• Waking up on New Years Day I fulfilled my commitment to meditate every day (an ongoing commitment which I know I need personally, for my recovery, and also, to remain clear about how I’m to show up in the world. I continued that commitment every day this week- hooray for tapas)

• I spent some time in nature with my husband and dog. It’s in the everyday beauty of our natural world I most readily feel a sense of awe, humility and grace. And that sense carries on days beyond the time spent in nature, especially when I work daily to recharge it. It becomes the foundation I long for, the ground of my being.

• I started the second cohort of Yoga, Writing and Recovery: Giving Voice to the Heart Within, an affirming, supportive community of recovering individuals invested in the practices of embodied and conceptual self-awareness. I can’t really capture here what this work means to me. We hold space for all sorts of emotions, perspectives, even those in conflict with one another- we share, we practice, it’s messy and it’s brave and it’s generative. It’s shared power. Power with, and not power over. (Thanks Brene Brown)

• Despite the above, I woke up yesterday (Wednesday, the day of the violence in DC) nauseous, dizzy, and with a terrible headache. I could feel what was about to happen yesterday. Today’s a little better. Some energy moved last night, and again this morning with my meditation with Justin Michael Williams. (My energy signature for today is present, grateful, easeful.)

• I co-hosted my weekly Y12SR meeting where we had a guest speaker, a Vietnam vet who inspired us all with his addiction recovery story. Folks, there are many of us still recovering, still sober, still working a recovery path, even now, as the world is falling apart. People are feeling their discomfort and joy like never before. There are spaces where we practice the both/and all the time. That is where I live and breathe and work. I’m here for it. It was, in fact, my prayer to hold both this year. The hard, the messy, the painful times and the joy, the gratitude, the inspiration, the delight. So, I’d say my prayers are being answered, every day, so far.

I’ve written before (here, and here, for starters) about the emergence of personal ethics as part of a recovery program. I had to save my own life first, get my feet under me and generate something of lasting integrity and value. That work continues as I learn, expand, and layer on my own experiences. But the work of justice and ethics is intertwined as I explore power dynamics which inform and control the system we all move and breathe in. More about that and its relation to recovery work soon!

Sending love,

DW

Discomfort and Joy (a prayer to close 2020)

Spirit,

Every year’s end is the completion of a cycle, and an acknowledgment of our highs and lows. But this year we’ve experienced an awful lot. We grieve our losses, marvel in our constancy, and celebrate our survival. Some of us can even say we thrive in our recovery. We know now that beginning a new year we cannot clearly see or feel certainty about what lies ahead. May we allow the quality of presence and of community we’ve so lovingly cultivated this year to be a deep resource of resilience and trust. May we know that all sensations and emotions and thoughts are reminders we’re human beings capable of the richness and fullness of lived experience- the unpleasant, the hard, the messy, the beautiful, the inspiring, and the joyful.

A spotlight has fallen on us as humans this year, and we’ve been made so aware of ourselves and each other and our individual and collective failings and missteps and harms as well as our expressions of kindness, courage, and generosity. May we never again be led into the illusion of separation, and may we remain ever mindful of our interdependence. May our awareness of both our shortcomings and our gifts set a sure foundation of humility and grace, setting the stones of the path we tread, ever forward. May we know that what we may think are obstacles along the way, are in fact the path itself, as we walk along with you.

May the dissonance which our discomfort creates serve as a reminder that we’re always seeking new means to chart our way into clearer and more pure alignment with you. May we come to know you as the felt experience in our hearts of unconditional, unbounded love. May our expression of that love be shown in acts of radical self-study, reconciliation and a renewed commitment to honor and serve you, through our service to all beings.

May our spiritual awakening and the illumination of our path serve as a beacon to those who still suffer, that we may reveal ourselves courageously and respectfully to each other in ways that remind us we’re all on this journey together. May our shared experience, strength and hope serve as steady hands to help each other along.

May we see clearly the truths to come before us, may we abide with equanimity amidst times of both turmoil and harmony, and may we act with a depth of wisdom and compassion that comes with daily, lifelong practice.

May our practice be continuous, may our hearts be steady, and may our efforts be of benefit to all beings.

May all beings be safe, may all beings be happy, may all beings be healthy.

May all beings find our freedom, may we know peace, and may we move in the world with ease.

On Gratitude, and Work

Today feels like a good day for a check in. I’ve been writing and sharing… a lot. But I haven’t been posting. Sometimes things feel expansive, like reaching my arms wide is in integrity with what the moment calls for. And sometimes things feel contracted, like lying supine and simply holding myself against the earth is a wiser choice. Lately it’s been the latter. My gratitude these days lies mostly in having the wisdom to know the difference.

There’s been some hugely expansive moments, for which I am also grateful. My teachers both celebrated major milestones in their recovery this year: Rolf, in May, celebrated 30 years of continuous sobriety and Nikki, 20 years, in July. In honoring these anniversaries, I also honor the value of their lives spent in honesty, humility, reflection, acceptance, learning, dignity, sharing, and service- values I hold dear as they have taught me to practice these over the past decade. There are days I cannot believe my good fortune in having such wise mentors placed in my path- and even moreso, that I was able, somehow, to recognize the deep longing I held for the better part of my life for this amount of wisdom, guidance and support.

I’m grateful for my family of origin. I’m grateful my mom was an alcoholic who died young so that I could see what might lie before me. The relationship I have with my mother is one that I now treasure even in present time, as she is always with me. This has been a slow evolution. Early in recovery I saw our conflict and my resentments toward her reckless and harmful behavior (which it was, for sure) as a bit of a bridge too far and one I’d never cross. At some point around year 3 (I think) I began to see my mother differently and I’ve written about what that entailed… but my perspective began to shift, and though the past was still the past, my experience of it had changed dramatically. And my relationship with my father, who is still very much alive and has faced his own challenges, is one of great mutual respect across differences we may have, of acceptance and love, and of genuine trust.

My adoptive recovery family, and especially the Y12SR community, has been, perhaps literally, a lifesaver for me during the past nearly six months. I’ve been graced with the privilege of holding space twice weekly for Y12SR online meetings, and leading and assisting several trainings, talking weekly with dear friends in recovery and attending meetings myself. Getting on my mat, moving in nature, which is where I experience Spirit most directly, and taking care of each other, our home, our tiny garden, and our animals- both adopted and wild- have all been ways I’ve been able to cobble together a steady foundation based in service and connection. And for that I am grateful.

And then there’s been the feelings about all that’s been happening, which I’m somehow able to feel without crumbling. The fear, the horror, the sinking realizations, powerlessness, the resistance, the challenge to allow in fundamental truths… this is a time when I’ve realized more than ever the interconnectedness of all things and the way individualism thwarts the collective- whether we’re talking about the environment, public health, policing, education, politics, or anything else. Individual responsibility and experience and nuances and differences are important- because of the way these impact our shared ability to relate and care for one another. The Yoga Sutras talk about avidya- that which we cannot see, based on individual experience. The formation of ego and our identity around our likes and dislikes and fears creates a self-limiting framework that makes conversation without defensiveness nearly impossible. In fact, avidya is what the Sutras say causes all forms of suffering. I’m far from immune to it all- quite the opposite- and that seems to be the work.

What’s also the work has been learning to feel my feelings, to work with resistance, in order to have the most important conversations across lines of difference. The capacity for restraint, for respectful open dialogue, and for healthy boundary-setting is something I learned in recovery meetings and have had the opportunity to practice in the public sphere as well. I learned to have compassion for where people are, given their lived experiences, even if different from mine. Author Mark Nepo once said something like “Compassion is being able to stand in the stream of another without getting swept away.” Yes. And this also feels like love- the willingness to lean into the truth of a person’s experience without getting caught up in projection (or avoidance, judgment, or self-righteous indignation, thank God).

A final lesson I feel grateful for today is simply the recognition that I have something to offer. For many of us (from conversations, I know I’m not alone in this) feeling like my experience has value, that my stories matter, that how I show up is important, and that I have a purpose and something to offer no matter what’s going on in the world “out there”… feels empowering and energizing. I know this feeling comes and goes- when contraction is necessary it may simply mean I’m to listen, or pause before acting or responding… that is wisdom. I might share that I’m in reflection and taking some more time to check in before making a decision. Boundaries are there for your protection, as much as mine.

All of this has meaning and value in a dominant culture that offers often-confusing messages about productivity, busy-ness, achievement, comparison and competition that seem to run counter to what I have been learning to be true for myself over the past decade. And balancing out the seemingly ever-present need to be “out there” saying, doing, leading, “boss babe”-ing, for me the greatest gift I know I can give is time and attention and care. And that comes when I know I’m doing my work, which helps ground me in what’s right, in the moment, and having that aforementioned “wisdom to know the difference.” It even feels revolutionary at times to take that extra moment to pause, check in, reflect, and choose wise action.

I’ve learned not to count those proverbial chickens before they hatch- and recovery is only one day at a time (aparigraha, aparigraha, aparigraha- I’m given what I need just for today)- but as we say in the South, “God willin’ and the creek don’t rise”, I’ll celebrate eight years of continued sobriety from alcohol and recovery from alcoholism on September 2. I have immense gratitude for the time and attention offered me throughout my recovery- from wise teachers, women in program, students, and anyone else who’s been kind to me these past eight years. You’re Spirit embodied, like we all are. Nothing to earn, no distance to travel, no boxes to check. And we work through our humanity together. For that, I am forever in debt.

Lastly… a little plug. I’ll be guiding “Writing Recovery: Giving Voice to the Heart Within” this Sunday as part of the Yoga of 12 Step Recovery (Y12SR) Leaders Summit and also leading weekly Yoga and Writing Recovery sessions starting soon. Click this little button for more info.

On Rock Bottom

“We finally came to the bottom ... We were spiritually bankrupt. We had a soul-sickness, a revulsion against ourselves and against our way of living. Life had become impossible for us. We had to end it all or do something about it.”
”

— Twenty-Four Hours a Day, June 9

What it does it take to acquire willingness to change long-held patterns?. So often I want to go straight from discomfort to end-point transformation. I want a quick fix. There are no quick fixes whether we are talking about addictive behavior with substances or food or relationships… or our own complicity in white supremacy. The only way out, I’ve learned, is through.

I almost titled this post “On Avoidance” but I wanted to be clearer in defining the moment we arrive at a desire to change. This is necessary before change can happen, which seems intuitively true, but it bears stating clearly. I said in a previous post that we cannot change what we do not first acknowledge… but truth telling can come when our hearts are broken enough that the discomfort of remaining sick is greater than the fear of taking action.

I’ve been sitting in presence with everything, listening, reaching out to those in my close circle, writing, and considering the path behind, and the path forward. I’ve been considering the words of many Black community leaders, including Sonya Renee Taylor (whose June 5 Instagram video gutted me, and spoke to the exact feelings I’ve been having), among others. I’m taking care that any actions I choose in this moment come from deep reflection and not panicked reactivity and self-centered optics. I’m staying rooted in willingness and the humility that steady progress requires in this moment. This is the same approach I take in recovery.

For me, willingness came with fear in my addiction story. I realized I could not go on living the way I was living- I knew that. But I also could not imagine the amount of change I would have to effect in order to live a different life. This was my rock bottom. It looks different for everyone- some have to lose everything in order to hit bottom- and for some, that still isn’t enough. It’s the sad truth of recovery. But as we say in program, we can recover if we have the capacity to be honest.

So, becoming willing, I found I could step up and take many more steps toward healing, integrating what I learned along the way in body, in mind, and in my spiritual program, and ultimately, becoming of service to those in my recovery community who also showed willingness. I like to think of working with others as the Golden Chalice of recovery- it’s the best we can hope for as we move from isolation, avoidance, despair, dissonance, pain, shame, and guilt- to inspiration, compassion, empathy, loving-kindness, joy, unconditional love and acceptance, gratitude, service, and grace.

Another quality I have worked to acquire is equanimity- which when Googled is defined as “mental calmness, composure, and evenness of temper, especially in a difficult situation.” Equanimity may be the most difficult for many of us, in this moment. Sometimes this is described or thought of as “neutral mind.” It’s easy to confuse equanimity with avoidance- because I can fool myself into thinking I’m practicing neutral mind but actually I’ve entered a dis-embodied state where I’ve lost the ability to lean into suffering and pain- which in my experience is ultimately de-humanizing because it cuts me off from the fullness of my ability as a human to connect to others. So, I try to add loving kindness to my avoidant mind, and voila- I can lean in better to the moment, let in the fundamental truths that sit before me.

Briefly stated, the process for transformation outlined not only in the 12 step fellowship but also in many spiritual traditions, including those within the Yogic path, contains the following progression, which overlays perfectly the model for change in social justice work:

Something is not right, and suffering exists

I have a personal connection to that suffering and it gives me pain

I want to change

I believe something can help me change

I devote myself to the process of change, using that help

I take a thorough look at my behavior in the past and present

I let someone I trust know what I’ve been hiding

I want to do better

I commit to being shown ways to do better

I look more closely at relationships that have suffered because of my behavior- at the level of personal, societal, institutional, cultural, and spiritual

I do what I can to repair those relationships, taking action where I must (and it’s responsible for me to), and I accept that sometimes repair isn’t possible

I keep doing the work- keep listening, keep asking for help, keep being accountable

I develop a relationship with my inner world that sustains me and gives me guidance, protects my energy and my ability to set boundaries, read my “inner compass” and operate from a place of empowerment, integrity and humility

I allow the rippling positive effects of my work to everything that I do, and I take what I have learned and offer it to others who want to change too- dedicating the merits of my work to the benefit of the greater good

If it sounds like a lot of work, it is! But, it is joyful, deep work and it feels freeing to do it. It is, in fact the process of liberation- and the progression, as I’ve seen it described elsewhere, as the movement from “I” to “We”. I’ll talk in a future post about the amazing gifts that come from deep spiritual work and “clearing the vessel.'“

So with this, in accordance with the steps outlined above, I am extending an invitation to any of my white friends who are acquiring willingness and humility into heart-to-heart conversation.

I understand call-out culture, cancel culture- I really do. It makes sense that we’d want to call each other out publicly for our missteps especially as we begin to lean into this work. We hate that our colleagues and friends and family are not doing more or better. It makes us angry and feels like they are part of the problem. And perhaps they are.

In my experience with this, sometimes this tendency to call out or cancel each other is born of perfectionism, which is a part of white supremacy culture. I’ve done it. I can say in my body it does not feel integrative or kind to call people out. In my experience this only drives shame and guilt further inward and can be immobilizing to those who might otherwise step up. I will always call people in, or up. (That’s the point of this post, if it isn’t obvious.) I will cheer people on when I see them waking up. I will encourage them to be brave. “Keep going!” I will say. Yes, this is the work we should already be doing. No, we do not deserve a medal or public recognition. Don’t let that truth stop you from moving forward.

It is critical that we are aware of our motives as we move through the process of transformation- we might better aim to become people of integrity and accountability, not to perform or put on an image. It’s important to remember honesty is a vital early quality that we can and must acquire and maintain. We must not do further harm to Black, Indigenous and People of Color (BIPOC) individuals. We can, however, be okay with discomfort ourselves- challenge ourselves to trust our practice will support us. That’s what practice is there for, right?

The point is, we’re willing to grow, as it says in recovery literature.

Good luck, keep going, and reach out if you like. I’m here, doing the work alongside you.

I see you and I’m with you.

Here are some small, meaningful, yet powerfully affirming ways we can support ourselves as we do this work, in a way that avoids replicating existing systems of white supremacy. Remember, the system wants you unaware, isolated, sick, compliant, and dis-embodied:

Have a daily meditation and movement practice. You don’t necessarily have to sit still, but see if you can acquire some time to move the body and link breath. Yoga of course is one option, but there are others- chi gong, t’ai chi, dance, cardio (if done mindfully), walking meditation, and many others. Get in your body, and feel what you are feeling. Let it move, or let it be.

Find people like you. Create a small affinity group. Read a book together, or talk openly about where you’re at. Having a spiritual fellowship of the heart can help you identify gaps in your understanding and help you see what you cannot see. Give “spiritual consent” to one or two people whose input you trust.

Take naps. Yes, we can and we should rest. Turn off the screens. Our nervous systems and our bodies need time to restore during times of change. There is overwhelming evidence within neuroscience for the need for rest as vital to our mental and physical health and our ability to function. If you’re in doubt, check out Why We Sleep, by Matthew Walker. And for a resource for BIPOC in resistance work specifically, check out The Nap Ministry.

Find spirituality in any form that works for you. This can come in the form of your religious or spiritual tradition, or it can be time in nature, caring for a garden, or animals. Connect to something bigger. Feel a part of life.

If you can, find whole locally grown foods to eat. “Eat the rainbow,” if you are able. That doesn’t mean shaming yourself about eating certain other foods- just add the stuff you know is also really good for you, out of love for yourself and your recovery.

On Truth

First of all I want to socially locate myself. It’s important to do that, as Michelle Cassandra Johnson teaches. (In fact I have learned so much from working with Michelle I must credit her for much of the understanding that I’m expressing here. Follow her, support her work, and tell others.) I also want to talk about how the work I’ve been engaged in for a long time is the perfect set up for turning into the moment- not away from it.

My feelings and opinions, though, are my own- I’ve learned to speak from my own “experience, strength and hope”- and acknowledging social location and positionality also shows that my experience of the moment and that of Black and Brown individuals is likely very, very different. (Yoga teaches this- more on that below.) I get to blog about it, intellectualize it, turn the news on or off, feel or not feel the impact of current events, and so on. Black, indigenous, people of color (BIPOC) are and have been living it since white colonizers stole the land we live on and began the age of enslavement and systemic oppression hundreds of years ago.

So, my social location: I’m a 46 year-old, college educated, middle class, white, cisgendered woman living with a chronic illness, raised in Richmond, Virginia, USA during the Reagan and Bush Sr. and Clinton eras against a backdrop of ballooning capitalism and military- and prison-industrial-complex ideology and mass incarceration of young Black men (aka the “War on Drugs” among other structures). I’m currently self-employed teaching meditation and embodiment practices with individuals and as a Leadership Trainer for the Yoga of 12 Step Recovery, a program created by Nikki Myers. In doing so I stepped years ago into a dual lineage invested in the work of truth telling, accountability, spiritual practice and service.

For me, my recovery comes first. It has to. Anything I prioritize over personal recovery I have learned, will be lost. I understand for some that may be a difficult statement to see as anything other than bypassing, but it is the truth, and a common agreement within recovery dynamics. I’ve written copiously about recovery in the past and defined that process elsewhere- but it also perfectly sets us up for anti-racism work so I have to name that here. In recovery we look at our conditioning and the ways our conditioning has caused harm. This is a very necessary early step in anti-racist work.

Another way my dual lineage sets me up for this work is that as my Yoga teacher Rolf Gates says, it’s a lot easier for us to do front-line work if both parties are self-regulated. I know can’t control the other person, but I can manage myself. Yoga empowers me with self-regulation tools that make hard conversations and boundary-setting possible. I can remain embodied. I can root, ground and take a deep breath as I’m in interaction. It makes it possible to listen, without reacting from anger, though I may well feel uncomfortable, and even angry. (It’s hard not to, right now.)

Rooting, grounding, and breathing deeply are also often an unexamined privilege within the “wellness community,” especially now as “oppression takes the breath away” from Black and Brown people (Michelle, again). A privilege is anything I have that I didn’t earn, and from which I may expect to continue to benefit, usually because of my social location. There are areas I have lots of privilege, such as being white, and a citizen of the US, and others where I have less, such as having a chronic illness and being female.

Finally, the Yoga and Recovery paths are upheld by a system of ethics and are both invested in an engaged, conscious form of harm reduction- that looking at our speech, thoughts, and actions today can prevent suffering tomorrow. I’m all in on that one. I can’t change the past but I can live my way into a different, and better future.

I’d like to say more about centering myself in this work. I have seen statements that we as white people should not center our feelings. I think there is a role for emotion- and emotions are energy. The nature of energy is to move; however energy only moves when we make space to feel our emotions. Those feelings can be a catalyst for action, when combined with personal commitment. I don’t fool myself that my feelings, in and of themselves, matter much on this issue- and I certainly don’t expect approval or affirmation from anyone, especially BIPOC individuals who happen to read this. In fact, I don’t want anything at all at this moment. My aim is to hold myself accountable for where I’m at right now. Perhaps, by writing, I will also see other white women like me step up and do the same. In truth telling, and only then, there is the possibility of liberation.

I wrote some of what follows in 2018 during the Kavanaugh hearings (with a few minor edits for relevance) and it reflects ideas that are as true today for me as they were then.

“That said, I’ve been feeling every conceivable emotion (from anger, to sadness, to crushing anxiety) when confronted, again, with actions of misconduct by white men in power. There is an intense, overwhelming sense of hopelessness that comes when I recognize that this culture clearly, on the whole, does not equally care for, or actively oppresses, harms or seeks to render powerless its women, BIPOC, the poor, non-citizens, the young, the old, the differently abled, non-cis-gendered, and others. I believe what we are seeing at the level of white-centered politics and public discourse (if you can call it that) is born of denial of responsibility and white bypassing- conveniently overlooking the ways whiteness has created a system that upholds white supremacy and violence. And the activism of the current moment is the natural reaction of people in crisis repressing anger and rage until someone or something happens to validate it and give it power and a voice (in this case, the viral-video murder of George Floyd by a members of the Minneapolis police).”

In Y12SR Leadership trainings, we ask: If you are wondering whether you are addicted to something, note the felt sensation when it is denied or its removal threatened. What is the physiological change? We might say that the white response and need to police the protests in response to Floyd’s murder is a form of reaction to the threat of a changing power.

Addiction to power is insidious and always finds a way, in very much the same way addiction to substances will always find a way unless those under its power arrive at a deep desire to change. Emotions, again, are energy, and when oppressive forces of addiction are unchecked, emotions can go inward, turning to rage and incapacitating pain. Resentments made flesh. I’ve experienced this in the context of my own addiction. It is devastating.

I’ve deliberately tried to push through my mental blocks, blind spots, and cognitive dissonance around inequity and “isms”- as my spiritual practice demands that I do (or else it’s only another way to bypass human suffering- my own and that of others). Doing so requires a heartfelt commitment, steady effort, but especially putting myself in the company of others in similar inquiry- who wish to, in service of something greater than ourselves. In short, tapas, svadhyaya, and isvara-pranidhana. In sangha. The beloved community. From this, I feel a sense of empowerment, of possibility, even of hope. Those emotions can then move, shape-shift, and become a gift- and that gift can inspire action.”

In my dual lineage practice it’s also necessary for me to clearly evaluate the places my energy is best spent. I doubt I’ll convince a hard-core white Trump supporter to examine their privilege and systemic racism (though I’ll never give up hope) but I might convince someone who knows what happened in Minneapolis, or Louisville, or New York City, Tallahassee, or Satilla Shores, and countless other cities in our country, a country supposedly founded on freedom from tyranny, is not only wrong but unconscionable and unacceptable, yet is unclear what to do next- and I might encourage that person, sitting in their whiteness, to open up to their own complicity in a system we were born into, we co-created and we lived our way into.

Did I create white supremacy? Did I dream it up? No, but I benefit from it. Am I a racist? I’ve learned that if a white person is born, they are born into racism- it is part of our way of life. it is also woven into our DNA, as descendants of those who oppressed and enslaved Black people. If I allow these things to happen and say nothing at all, take no action, and do no part to educate myself, then yes, I am participating in racism. And to my white friends, we suffer too from our own racism. We are lulled into a sleepy, anaesthetized sort of comfort in our own privilege that renders us virtually powerless to change the system that was devised to keep us silent, complicit, subservient to whiteness… a construct created to keep us separated at best, and neutral when our Black and Brown community members are murdered, at worst. It is dehumanizing to disconnect from our capacity for empathy for the experience of others. We are social-emotional beings. And for those of us invested in spiritual practice, an acknowledgement of this is putting first things first. In my experience we cannot change what we do not first acknowledge.

Hell is the place nothing connects… so says T.S. Eliot. It’s time to connect the dots.

Wake up, white friends. Wake up and meet me on the field of truth telling.

On Renewal

I began this post in May of this past year. I just finished it, six months later.

Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter - renewal happens all the time.

In the early days of recovery, everything felt new. My brain was emerging from a quarter century-long alcohol bath. Clarity appeared, through the fog. Everything began to feel raw, and open. I talked about it, sat with it - and later I wrote about it and since the early days I’ve been moving in it, and through it, and a new revelation has set in: Once sober, from everything - all the things that pull us out of center - we’ve nowhere else to go and nowhere to hide, really - certainly not from ourselves, anymore. How do we adjust to this “new normal”?

I was talking with a dear friend yesterday and I heard myself say that once your consciousness expands, it’s never quite the same again. I think this is what Oprah means when she says after exposing inequity: “you’ve seen it now, you are changed, now what are you going to do about it?” and when 12-steppers say AA ruined their drinking. It’s not that I could say I’ll never drink again - it’s always one day at a time - but it would take an awful lot for me to return to the old ways, knowing and feeling what I do now. I heard Tommy Rosen say once “I’ve managed to create a life so full, so rich, in sobriety, that I would not want to give it up for one drop of alcohol, one hit of cocaine, even if I could.” That’s expansion.

That’s not to say that things are always sparkly, sunlit, green.

The next part of this essay contains material that may be difficult for some readers.

On Monday, May 13, I discovered a dead body.

A friend ended his life under an oak tree, in the back yard where he lived.

He had terminal cancer, was alcoholic, nearing homelessness, and had lost all hope. I felt that wave of horror move through me, catch in my chest - and there it stayed, for a long time. It was the horror of seeing myself in another in pain - a trauma response, and a memory of something familiar.

None of us is immune to hopelessness. In that moment, I was both acutely aware that life is a precious gift - and at the same time, that for some, death seems the only possible relief. I can openly admit now that at times I had contemplated ending my life as well- long ago, there were times I could not imagine living a different way, and I suffered under the weight of shame about this. I was stuck: I could not see a way to change, but it felt impossible to go on the way I had been living. In recovery circles we call this a “bottom.” And some of us can live at the bottom for a very, very long time, managing and functioning in a way that to outside appearances looks comparatively normal. Running on and on, in this way, on the fumes of self-will and desperation, exhausts the nervous system and diminishes our usefulness to anyone. As I’ve written before, I surrendered that way of being several years back, and since then I have come to understand that I have choices and supports available to me, should I have the presence of mind to move toward them.

Today.

How things do change. In this past year since finding Jimmy’s tortured body, and before that, after months of processing the grief of Kaity’s passing, I’ve also grieved the sudden loss of our sweet senior pup, Finn, killed by another dog. During that time - just a few weeks after starting this post, in fact - I’ve gained dear relationships that put me in a place to be a friend and support to women like me, just by being myself and sharing both what I know and what I don’t know- and to gratefully receive what they had to offer, too. This is how we recover.

There is a dignity to resilience. And if each of us is lucky we find the communities large and small that make resilience - and renewal - not only possible, but inevitable.

I’m clear that renewal happens when I set my mind and my energy right - when I attune to a power greater than myself, whatever that may be. The best way I’ve found to do this is to spend time with my attention turned inward, listening, through prayer and meditation, away from the buzz of technology and the cultural pressures of productivity at any cost. When I tune in, I can also see and feel it in others - and that power is most available. It supports me. I experience it as unconditional love. It never leaves me - though I do forget it’s there from time to time, and then I feel less resilient. And I can always tune back in.

Prayer and meditation buoy my psyche and my spirit and make resilience attainable. Here’s my personal prescription, simple, accessible, potent, and for me, immediately nourishing:

“Dear beloved spirit, show me the ways you’d have me be most present and useful today.”

Fifteen minutes of breathing in, and breathing out. Being in the body, in the breath.

Five minutes of spiritual reading- anything that serves. (In a future post, I’ll share some fantastic daily readers that pair well with this practice.)

I’m clear also that I was supposed to be there, to be with Kaity. To find Jimmy. To meet those women, in their time of need, and to see my own need for them - to see how our healing could be mutual. To hold my sweet Finn in memory only. What yoga has given me has made it possible for me to stand, softly and steadily, in moments of discomfort without crumbling into dust. To stand in the stream of another without losing myself in the flood. To watch the leaves fall from the trees and know that all is impermanent. To know that relationships renew. That what seems impossible, immovable, can and does shift. Especially when my eyes are open to see it.

All is constantly renewing. All is changing. All will come to pass. All will be reborn. And somehow, all is well, even when it’s not.

Here’s to renewal.