Broke Down Belt...

Took a beautiful class last night at my beloved Laughing Lotus (that's right, we're back in NYC for the holidays, ah sigh)--which always feels to me like coming home.  Even though the studio is blowing up in popularity and expanding and expanding and expanding, I have just sweated and blissed-out and suffered so many hours on those floors, beneath those colored curtains and spinning fans...as soon as I step into the place I feel remembered.  If not by the people who are there, which changes of course, and becomes less defined the longer I'm away, then at least by the walls and the ceilings...even by the bathrooms, which I spent many a night scrubbing in return for my free yoga classes.

On this trip I have been longing to MOVE in the way I only feel moved in my practice there.  So, as quickly as I could after arriving, I got my butt to class.

And as we began, Ali (one of my most beloved teachers), talked about how valuable the Vinyasa practice is because of it's constant changeability.  (I don't think she used that word...I don't know if that IS even a word, but I like it: changeability.  It reflects what it is.)  She talked about how important a practice it is for life, because of this ceaseless motion--something that is so FELT in a Vinyasa yoga class, and can be much more obscured in life, as we all try to pretend that it isn't the case.  That things are not, as they are, always always changing.  And I felt so moved by this.  Even though it's not a new idea--I've probably heard and even said it, a hundred times over.  But yesterday, having barely just arrived back in New York, back in our apartment in Brooklyn, back to all our books and plants and dishes and things that have just been left here, waiting for us, back to our old neighborhood, which is more new every time we return (new shops, new people, new atmosphere)--I needed to be reminded.  I needed to be reminded not too hold on too tightly, to anything.

I read once that all suffering is caused by stopping the natural flow of the mind.

And I remember when I read this I imagined a factory--some great conveyor belt, carrying on it all my thoughts and feelings and ideas, and that in its natural state, in its prime-functioning state, that conveyor belt just smoothly silently steadily flows.  It just moves by, carrying all of the stuff of my mind.  And everything goes along swimmingly on that big ol' belt, until I see something that seems broken or put together wrong, or maybe just an empty space I feel shouldn't be there.  (I'm the foreman in this factory, I guess, or maybe just the conveyor belt operator...that's still up for debate).  And when that happens, when I see something a-miss, I get all into a fuss and I pull the red lever that stops the movement of the belt, everything comes grinding to a halt, and I rush over and start fiddling or fixing or what-have-you, trying to perfect the products of my little mind-factory.

And of course, of course, this is where the trouble begins.

Things back up.  Production slows.  People get frustrated.  Everything, which was moving along of it's own accord before I got involved, starts to feel...overwhelming.

If I could just leave that belt alone...if I, if we, could just allow it to carry on, just allow even the broken pieces, the gaps, the stuff that's upside down or just badly put-together...if we could just allow that to continue its movement, if we could just trust that our job isn't the perfection of what's ON the belt, but merely that the belt continues to turn...wouldn't things be sweeter?  Couldn't we just admire?  Wouldn't so much more get accomplished?

I am thinking about this so much lately...as there is so much about the holidays that encourages looking forward and back, and I am trying as much as possible to stay steady in the present.  But nothing, I've found, roots me quite as deeply and sweetly in the natural movement of my life as does, well...moving.  Moving as I inhale, and moving as I exhale.  Moving so that my movement is a reflection of my breath. My breath which is ceaseless in it's progress.  So, Shanti-towners...if your conveyor belt feels stuck, if you're trying to glue some broken something back together before you let things move again, maybe...maybe just put it back.  Release your little red lever.  And let your life move.

Do Not Disturb

It's Friday morning and I am sipping hotel coffee in my king-size Westin San Diego bed.  Thank you, oh ye gods of hospitality.  I've been here since late Wednesday night, an impromptu trip to visit my mister while he does some work here in lovely SD.   And it IS lovely, though also a bit implacable, as some cities can be...even after a day of wandering I still found myself wondering, "WHO are you, San Diego?"   As of yet I have no answer, though we did happen across some super amazing wine and food last night at this place called Red Velvet Wine Bar, which made me feel a bit more tender about the city overall.

Today I am left to my own devices, and once I can manage to get myself away from this oh-so-comfortable bed, I'll be heading across town to take a yoga class at a nearby studio.  (From a teacher, it turns out, who is a former Laughing Lotus grad, so that should be pretty cooooool.)

Anyhow, I have a little parable to leave you with before I start my day...

Yesterday, also while alone in aforementioned hotel room, I spent several minutes composing and then deleting emails.  I was having one of those days where I felt, oh, sort of forgotten.  Not in a friends and family way, but in a work-relationships kind of way, and my impatience was getting the best of me.  Why isn't that person emailing me back?  Why haven't I gotten any word back about X job I just did or am about to do or said I would do?  Why, why, why?  And I tried composing some direct, "hey did you get my last email?" emails, and I tried composing some less direct, "hey how ARE you?" emails (in the hopes that just my name in the ol' inbox would trigger some response), and then I tried composing some less direct (and way more manipulative) work-around emails, to connections of the people I was actually trying to reach, subtly urging them to help me out. 

But I deleted all of them.

I deleted them because I could feel that I wasn't composing these emails...no, no, that little demon DESPERATION had control of my email account for the moment, and even though it was like putting down an unlit cigarette once you've already stuck it in your mouth and started digging around for the lighter...I willed myself to PUT the email DOWN.  And I did.  And I sat there with myself.  And I reminded myself that I have been down this road before in other incarnations of my life and career, and that even though writing and sending the missive itself can momentarily relieve the itch, that ultimately, whether it's later that day or a week down the road...it would only make things worse.  I reminded myself that it was okay to be patient.  I reminded myself that my time would be better served by getting on my mat and practicing, or reading that book I brought with me, then sending desperate calls for affirmation out into the cyber-universe.

So, that's what I did.  I got on my mat, in the corner of empty hotel room floor, and started playing around.  And after not too long, I nearly forgot what I was so tied up about to begin with.  Until my hotel phone rang.  It was the concierge--I had earlier asked for someone to come up and replace our broken coffee maker, and the concierge woman was following up:

"There is someone with a replacement coffee maker standing outside your door," she said, "but you have your "do not disturb" sign up, and they aren't allowed even to knock if it's there."

And as I hurried over to the door, to let in the man with my new replacement coffee maker, the thing I had REQUESTED, I had to thank the universe for its quick and witty response to my tiny troubles.

GIRLFRIEND, says the quippy universe, you have to take down the sign that says DON'T COME IN, before I'm gonna come in.  You dig?!

And that sign, the one you inadvertently place on your door, while inside you wonder where your coffee-maker is...it can be any number of things.  Maybe it's desperation, maybe it's worry, maybe it's your conclusion that no one cares, that no one wants you, that you're not good enough...whatever it is, just remember that THAT is what is preventing the easy flow of solutions and offers and functioning coffee-makers into your life. 

So, Shanti-towners, if you're feeling stuck, or unseen, it might be worth taking a quick look outside to see if you've accidentally put out that DO NOT DISTURB sign.  Because the universe is polite, and it's not even going to knock, if it's up.