Conversations & practices that support in times such as these

Conversations & practices that support in times such as these

An impromtu and heartfelt conversation happened last night after yoga class articulating the pain of the times we are living through right now. It was one of those interactions that stays with you long after it is over. We were talking about current events and the intense needs around the world and here at home and how staggering and heartbreaking it all is. The feeling of overwhelm and helplessness with what can be done is becoming so very familiar.

We talked about how important it is to be vigilant in resourcing ourselves in whatever ways we possibly can so that we can be present for it all. I know for myself, what I need are ways to support me responding from my centre, to know how or learn how to hold all the heartbreak, fear, and helplessness alongside a sense of gratefulness for the beauty that life still holds at the same time. That is a tall order.

I am so grateful to have folks to engage in practices that help me figure out how to do that. It keeps me rooted and anchored in my own practice. It keeps me coming back to my mat and meditation cushion and journal and garden so that I can move out from my calm and into the world and hopefully discern how I can best meet the needs that I am witnessing. In a helpful way. In a calm way.

During and after our conversation I was struck by how important this task is: to figure out how to move from a regulated place rather than a reactive place. I know the reactive place well. Too well. It has never brought great results for me.

My intention is to return to my practices and mySelf when overwhelm and fear take centre-stage in my mind and in my heart. No good comes from ignoring the indicators that inform me that I am at the end of my capacity. I cannot dream about the world I want to live in from here. I can only lament about the world as it is. And while there is much to lament, there is beauty too. Watching the Heron at the shore as the sun sets on another day. Watching the Hummingbirds zip around the flowers with dizzying speed and flight patterns as I play with my granddaughter in the garden. Gathering herbs for tea to calm my heart and pausing to breathe in their aromatics before infusing them into a supportive brew to meet the moment.

My curiosity rests here with this question: how can I resource myself to meet this moment because I can see that all hands are needed on deck, all voices are needed to speak into dreaming a new way of being here. It is too easy to become calloused around the heart when the exact opposite is what is needed. I need to keep opening my heart over and over and over. Showing up. Doing what I can, with what I have, from where I am.

A mantra a beloved teacher* shared in a yoga class one day that I have never forgotten and often use is this:

Here I am. I am here. Right here. Right now. Open.

This mantra speaks to the need to not look away from each crisis. One of my favourite authors* writes, “flinch, but do not look away.” This is my work: figuring out how not to be swept away by feelings of helplessness, how to hold both the beauty of life and the desperate needs of our times. How to be here now, open, awake, aware, taking action and seeking the magic of life while we do the work of creating something new. Something better. Something equitable and just for all, including the planet and all life.

These practices of lighting my candle each morning, working out my thoughts and emotions on the pages of my journal, moving my body in the ways that it needs, communing with nature, being quiet to do nothing else other than witness my thoughts, my emotions, my breath. These are the things that help me sort throught all that is going on and return me to life, resourced so that I can hear the cries around me and respond. These things allow me to open my heart over and over and over.

Here I am. I am here. Right here. Right now. Open.

And as I practice with others I know that I am not alone and that we are all in this together. Taking action, seeking magic. What a gift. I am so very grateful for conversations like these, as sad as they are because it reaffirms my connection to others, to the planet, to life. I am so very grateful for the community I have found here to share these practices with. It has made all the difference.

Come and join us!

*Yoga Teacher is Bill Eager (Kelowna) and author is Sharon Blackie (If Women Rose Rooted)