
February has been a month of fear since college…I think it’s particularly tough in an academic calendar, and I had a (dearly beloved) professor who waxed poetic about the terrors of it my first spring semester. And it stuck.
This year, though, I feel like February wasn’t so bad, maybe because I didn’t really think about it being February. Or maybe because my expectations are low?
Things I Loved in February
Braiding Sweetgrass and Discovering Re-Reading
I have mentioned already that I was re-reading (and now just finished) this book, which beautifully brings together seemingly disparate ideas - spirituality and science, plants and people. I started reading it for a book club, and one of the people in the book club suggested listening to it, as it’s read by the author (my favorite kind of audiobook). I did that, with a copy by my side so I could stop and make the kinds of notes and questions and emphases that I normally struggle to keep track of when listening.
This book will probably be a whole post or several - though I’m sure I can say nothing useful that the author herself hasn’t said, so maybe not. However, the thing it taught me this time, in addition to the actual teachings of the book, was that sometimes re-reading is necessary. I generally have a “life’s too short to read books more than once” attitude, but this book reminded me that we are not the same person the second time that we read a book, and therefore have both more experience and more questions to bring to a book, especially one this profound the second time around.
The moderator of the book club, a yoga teacher I love and the reason I joined the book club (not usually a book club fan, actually), described this book as a “book of action” during our first session, and I had an internal moment of “what?” The first time I read this was, like everyone else, during the pandemic. At that time, I think I responded to the calls toward presence, toward the local instead of the macro, the slowness of that time and the invitation to extend some of that pace into the rest of my life.
But this time, the book did call me to action, even if those actions are small. It also felt like it awakened my ability to be able to re-think a long-held belief or a long-held practice and see if it still fits or if it might be time to re-shape it. And, since it feels like I’m finally not SO new in my current role that my curriculum brain is coming back to life, I was also able to start to imagine possibilities for integrating ideas about ecology, reciprocity, and the natural world into my teaching next year in a way that I haven’t been able to any time in the past two years.
Making Small Changes
The book also inspired (and reminded) me to make small changes. I’ve made adjustments to our grocery shopping schedule to avoid food waste and also just use what we already have. I’ve re-positioned myself next to the trashcan in the morning at school to rescue fruit that the kids want to throw away, which also helps to feed kids who are hungry later in the way. I’m wasting less paper, thinking more intentionally before I print. And that feels like it’s paving the way for bigger changes, both in my teaching and other areas of my life. Highly recommend immediate but manageable adjustments.
I’d love to know what you loved in February or your feelings on the shortest month.
Balance
I’m excited to be teaching a spring equinox yoga workshop on St. Patrick’s Day! March’s schedule is below; feel free to click on the picture to register. I hope to see you on the mat this month!
I love the line about being a different person when you re-read a book. I haven’t thought of it that way, and it seems very full of hope. This February, I loved the ability to continue building on good habits. February so often feels like a month of setbacks or stalling out. This February was a steady drive forward and left me feeling refreshed rather than drained.