Last weekend, I left my house to go somewhere in Austin besides my workplace for the first time in three weeks, but what felt like about three months. I got to meet some goats (farm animals are my happy place), do some kayaking, and soak in the last two days of perfect Texas weather before the feeling of oppressive summer heat sunk in. This week, I submitted that 40-page paper that I talked about a couple of weeks ago. With each milestone that comes toward the end of school (last project, last day with Chromebooks, grades finalized), there’s a little bit of bittersweetness, but a little bit of lightness as well. I feel like I’m re-emerging into a life that is familiar, that I do know, but that I haven’t seen in what feels like much longer than it’s really been.
I’m also starting to re-emerge to the world. I’ve been better about responding to messages and, more importantly, about actively reaching out to people to let them know that, yes, I’m alive and okay and resurfacing. I wrote an email this week where I said that I can’t even remember who I was in January because it feels so long ago. I don’t like that feeling, like things have been moving so fast that I can’t even see or feel the changes as they happen. There have been so many, nothing catastrophic or even earth-shattering…just so many, one after the other, or sometimes thrice at once.
It’s no coincidence that my yoga practice has been all over the place, and by all over the place, I mean, basically non-existent save for one class here or there whenever I could squeeze it in. I’m aware that my life will make yoga impossible schedule-wise, and the lack of yoga will make me feel far away, which makes the schedule stuff seem impossible to contend with. So, while finding the ability to realize the distance is uncomfortable, it’s also essential and, I know, the beginning of a path back toward center. I know this happens, and I’ve learned to accept that the practice will always be there when I come back to it.
One of my students was having a bad day this week, and she told me, “it’s just that I feel like my body is here in class but my brain is somewhere else.” That description hit me straight to my core, both for its relatability and for its eloquence. And also because, my God, I could not have described that as a teenager that succinctly and clearly, and would have had no idea what to do about it even if I could. In that moment, while I felt for her in the discombobulation, I was also deeply grateful to be able to honestly reply, “I know exactly what you mean, and it does feel awful. Is there anything you know that helps?” And SHE DID KNOW. She had a plan and an awareness of what was useful, and we did it, and it helped. I’m so grateful that these students will start to be in charge of things in a decade or so.
My yoga teacher, in the first class I’ve been to in quite some time in person, closed class by talking about intention, and offering the definition of yoga as union, or connection. Of course, I know this definition, but I usually use the terms yoke or union, and hadn’t thought about the idea of connection as the practice of yoga in a while. It felt helpful to reframe my practice and my day about being about connecting - to the life that I haven’t gotten to experience recently, to my students as things conclude and shift, to others and the world in these bewildering times. Connection is at the heart of it all. And what a gift to receive that message at the exact moment that I needed it.
With the idea of connection in mind, there’s a short survey that I’d love for you to participate in if you’re interested in taking yoga classes this summer. My plan is to continue teaching on Sunday nights whenever I’m in town, but I’ll also have some flexibility in June and July to add other classes, and I’d love to know what might bring you to the mat.
May’s calendar is below; I’d love to see you tomorrow if you’re free!
