This week, my "moment" happened while I was pumping. No, not water from a well, but breast milk from my boobs. ;) For those of you who don't know, I have a four month old daughter who has been the source of so much spiritual understanding and inspiration for me and, undeniably, so many of my revelations come to me in these moments of bare-chested connectivity to the miraculous, abundant power of Life and all that Is -- the truth that my own body can sustain a life. However, this week my "moment" happened while attached to my plastic milking machine (aka my breast pump), which is, admittedly, a bit less romantic.
While I pump, I usually catch up on emails, update something on my website, check my Facebook or scroll through Pinterest, but for some reason, I decided to go back and read my old blog entries from my summer trip to Uganda two years ago. Reading them was like hovering over the past and watching it from heaven, gazing upon this really challenging period of my life with an objective, tranquil eye, one far removed from the deeply traumatic, scary, and upsetting experiences of the trip. I couldn't help but weep with joy when I thought about how uncertain and scared and hopeless I felt during that trip: nearly ready to throw my hands up and say forget it to the whole freaking project that I started there, and how, from this more restful place in the future, those scary moments seem so small, the beauty and importance of the trip now so clearly overshadowing the darkness.
And how beautiful is it that here I sit, a year and a half later, in a totally different place, with new people heading the projects on the ground, new excitement budding through the inspirational students at Pewaukee High School, and new developments evolving that I never could have dreamed up myself. And from this vantage point, I realize the necessity of those terrible months completely -- I needed to live through every moment of that trip so that I could live in the much more peaceful, ordered now. Oh, if only I could have, just as Maya Angelou says, "trust[ed] life a little bit," I could have saved myself from so much grief.
But isn't it so human to be so embedded in the story of the now that it's easy to forget about the Great Spirit, the Wise One who knows how to make chaos into order, new skin from a scab, and wildflowers from organic decay? As I venture into this new phase of my life, with my husband traveling the majority of the time, my new business taking off, and most importantly, my role as a mother unfolding, I am reminded that whatever is happening on the surface is only an illusion, masking what's being born underneath it all, that of which I can only dream and will only fully understand from my final vantage point in the heavens.
With this being said, all of my yoga classes this week will be about entering this place of relaxed awareness -- a place where we can be softer, more open as a way to invite the sacred feminine in, becoming soft enough for the juicy, gooey creative nectar of God to work through us and our experiences no matter how sweet or bitter they seem right now. So, you guessed it, we'll spend time with the more feminine 2nd, 4th and 6th chakras with flowing, gentle, juicy practices that remind us to crack back open, get out of our Own way, and let the Great Spirit move on through
Yoga Therapist, Teacher, Speaker, Writer, Mother