What is the rhythm of life?
Remember, Atlas shrugged, too.
Seeking an answer is like trying to understand the tree by only looking into its shadow.
In the silence, the beat, butterfly wings pulsing at your heart.
Witness sacred in mundane.
Take care of yourself and wear your apron.
Sweep your own floors.
Make dinner as you linger in another’s depth.
See the resonance – the relics and the seeds.
Look to the tree, inspiration between limbs. It holds up the sky where you shine.
Sometimes we make important life decisions based on what we think we should do. The “should” can become a barometer for being loved or accepted by others. Much of my life was spent as a purposeful outsider… Never wanting to be adopted into one group, I joined them all. It is like how I can’t choose my favorite color – wouldn’t green get its feelings hurt if I chose pink?
While working in an art gallery and at a museum, I found yoga. Finally, something pure enough for me to want to dig my teeth into. I said my vows, got my membership card and thought of how to best serve yoga itself. I wanted to give people something to look up to… I wanted to be a leader. I wanted to be heard.
So I traded in my vintage hat collection for an ascetic life, trying to free myself from desires and craving. I cleansed. I purified. I tried to honor what the yogic teachings offered me. Glamour and elegance no longer mattered to me. I wanted to embody the perfect yogi. As a girly girl who started wearing high heels before she could ride a bike, it was a stretch to stop wearing make up, but I did.
I became obsessed with my ideal of what I thought I should be. My self-esteem was garnered from an external perception and I somehow always fell short.
All this did is isolate me further from my own truth: anything other than following your heart is a form of self-deception. I was too truthful outwardly to others but little by little, I lied to my heart.
I’ve embraced more of myself – who I am beyond archetypes and titles – and my art is now reflecting my heart instead of my issues. It’s ok to be in love with who I really am and at the end of the day, I’m the only one who is keeping score.
I don’t want to be an ascetic. That isn’t the key to happiness. Happiness lives in the space. Happiness lives in gratitude… Fall down on your knees kind of gratitude. Find the things that make your heart smile and do more of that. I don’t want to be a part of anything less than helping people remember this. We all know it, we just need to be reminded – everything is cool.
Score one for me – I can finally put on my cocktail dress, open a bottle of champagne and do yoga in my favorite pair of heels. Ok so it wasn’t the most comfortable of endeavors, but you get the point, right?
I’d rather stand on my head than talk about the weather.
Do you think I am fat? If I were in front of you in typical yoga spandex, would you judge me?
I’ve gained weight and I’m not pregnant. I’ve followed the brand new, yogi-approved Seat Diet.
See it… eat it.
As a yoga teacher, this could be considered career suicide. Instead of slaying my means of supporting myself, I want to slay the notion that people who do yoga need to look like the beauties on the cover of magazines. Last year, my best friend said crying as she dealt with her lifelong eating disorder, “I don’t want to be known as the fat yoga teacher.” I was taken aback by this statement because I would classify her as beautiful, fit, and trim. I wanted to explore her statement that resonated in my mind like the frequency of fingernails tagging with sound their presence on the chalkboard.
To me, ‘fat’ is an arbitrary word that is used as ammunition to harm another. I’m not at war.
I thought this would be an experiment in empowering people to love their bodies and not try to fit society’s mold. Instead, reality of my latent insecurities came like a football team’s kicker being put in as the center (my identity was pummeled).
The stories I made up about what people thought of me were changing and I was emotionally affected. Suddenly, my self-worth was proving to be connected to how good I looked wearing spandex – something I completely denied giving a shit about before this experiment – and that pissed me off. Guilt from eating foods I typically considered bad for me were constant companions in my thoughts. Shame did cameo appearances in my mind’s movie reel daily.
My most shocking discovery through the process is that I’m afraid of not being loved. I noticed the self-talk was that my beauty is only on the surface. I feared no man would want me this way and that I would die alone, probably from choking on a potato chip. There was a war going on inside of me and neither side was winning. Once I unraveled the fears and self-assaulting language as irrational, they no longer had power over me and I began to relax into my new found “goods”.
Nietzsche says the thing separating men from gods is the belly. May we all expand our bellies to digest our fears and empower our minds to think. May we all understand that we all want to be loved for who we are… however we are in the moment. And may we all find love and not die alone, from potato chip asphyxiation.
PS – I’m not fat; I’m fucking awesome!
There was a time when all I needed for inspiration was a quote, horoscope, fortune cookie, or one of those refrigerator magnet poems. The days of fluffing the pillows of hope to make the world seem less random are over. I am simultaneously distraught and relieved that I no longer rely on my tea bag for a shot of wisdom.
My industry is known for injecting the public with heightened inspiration, feel-good yumminess, and the perception that one can be happy all the time. I’m a generally calm and happy person but I’m over the illusion that we can talk ourselves into seeing the half-full glass as overflowing.
Nature is my teacher. People are a part of nature and in my work, I come in contact with a diverse group of humans. A lot of people subscribe to the theory posed by a new-age book that claims to reveal the one secret law of the universe. Basically, it says one just has to specifically ask the universe for what one wants and, like a genie granting wishes, it will appear.
I’m a big believer in setting a goal and a bigger believer in working my ass off to achieve the goal. Whether or not I accomplish the goal seems to only come down to how I choose to spend my time… Not whether I put the right picture on my vision board/talked with my angel guides/chose the right spirit animal before my vision quest.
We have an immense amount of power in our brains to change the way we think about things, but because we change our thoughts does not make something manifest into this world.
I’ve found the people who talk the most about manifesting are the people who are doing the furthest thing from their ideal job. I get that we all want direction and we all want a plan, but the thing that pisses me off about “The Secret” will hopefully become clear by the end of this rant.
Driving down a busy street in Dallas in the middle of Summer, I saw a man carrying his groceries. He was blind and using a walking stick. Do you think it would help him to wish himself out of blindness? Do you think having a clear intention would spontaneously make him able to see? No. And an intention like that would be a complete waste of time and energy whose results would be futile.
He inspired me. He didn’t let his fear take hold of him.
A student of mine was struggling in a yoga class this morning. We were doing Downward Facing Dog. For many healthy people, this pose is a breeze. This man would get into the pose for about one second and need to come down to his knees again. He did this five times in the eight seconds we held the pose. This student has Cerebral Palsy and wants so badly to do the yoga poses everyone else in the class is doing. Do you think if he was very clear that he is asking the universe to heal him that he would get better? Do you think it is a good use of his mental capacities to dream of having use of all motor and mental functions?
He inspired me. He kept trying. He isn’t giving up.
People who do their best with what they have inspire me. Determination and focus inspire me. Vision and creativity inspire me. Don’t tell me the world is going to shimmer with sparkles and happiness when sometimes it is just going to suck. Teach me how to work with what I have – to shape my own clay into something I really love. Teach me how to get re-focussed when I lose sight. Teach me how to love.
Watching someone grow over 200 hours of yoga teacher training is a beautiful thing to see. What’s even more beautiful is to watch the group dynamic as unspoken bonds are formed in the process of witnessing and being witnessed. My friend calls it “Sacred Witnessing” and I am a firm believer in the power it has to help us grow individually and collectively.
I hold space for my students’ growth and in my myopic focus in aiding in their journey, I can sometimes forget that I am also simultaneously growing on my journey. They are unconsciously holding space for my growth and I feel very lucky now to realize that. There was a part of me that neglected my evolution. I’m reminded through these words one of my students wrote me in a card that I, too, was being witnessed, “From every part of my being, I see you, I hear you, I appreciate you and I love you.” I feel this way about my students.
Because I don’t believe in the guru structure and I bask in my utter humanness, I rejected a lot of the love and appreciation they’ve sent my way over the years. It isn’t a form of self-loathing – I was afraid it would aid my ego and my head would get so big that I would have to change the height of the doors in my house. I’ve come to realize you can’t fully witness without being witnessed. It takes two to be in relationship and my students teach me so much just by being present in my life.
I am grateful.
My favorite thing to do is be creative… however that shows up – whether through creating an experience for my students, cooking for my friends, painting, or photography, it is something that brings me an infinite amount of satisfaction and joy to share.
There are a select few who have seen me in my creative state. It is sacred for me. One of my closest advisers has pushed me to another level where I am exploring the idea of sharing parts of my creative process. This video is part of this new idea.
I’m scared to death as I post this. It isn’t about fear of what people think or how people may judge me. It is a vulnerability – a true showing of my heart. I figure I might as well be even more real and more honest. Isn’t it true that is something scares you, it is worth doing? 🙂
I love my life and I feel so grateful to be able to do what I do. The basis of what I do is teach people how to find their center in the midst of life’s inevitable chaos. I hold space for people to heal what needs to be healed so they can live a more authentic, purpose-driven life. Everything I do revolves around the creative process – something so personal, yet completely universal. It transcends language barriers. It communicates with us and through us. It is magical to me.
Part of my daily practice involves walking through the woods. I bring my keys, my journal, my music, my dog and I run. I meditate. I allow life to unfold around me and I get excited when I notice things… and there is always something new to notice so I am in a constant state of awe.
Yesterday, I was listening to this particular piece of music that put me more into a daydream – I started to run faster than I ever have before – like I was being chased. Suddenly, I tripped over a small tree stump, flew through the air and literally tumbled down to the ground. It was surreal to have my world flipped so suddenly.
When coming back to my car, I noticed I didn’t have my keys with me. I thought perhaps I had left them in the car so I went to check. Someone found my keys on the trail and left me a note.
Today, I cried for the kindness of strangers. You guys are all around me. The world is filled with kind hearted people – there are more of us than those who make the news. Everyone I’ve told this story to is shocked. They say, “Wow,” and, “You’re lucky,” and things like that but I don’t believe that. I believe they would do the same thing when put in that situation. We are inherently good. My mom said I see the world through rose-colored glasses but I’m not naive – I know desperate people do desperate things – but I do believe in the good within each of us. I believe in you. So thanks for being a stranger and thanks for helping those who aren’t yet believers see the fact that you are kind.
He has two gods: nature and music. The notes were his companion, the former rests somewhere beyond the view, begging to be graced with his footsteps. “Don’t look at me. Be with me,” Mother Nature commanded, knowing he was afraid of the dark. Did he need more strength to be strong?
Burying the barbed wire beneath the brush, a toll was paid to the cheribum, Fear and Desire, to enter the garden at Giverny. The forest was disenchanted, the wolf his companion as the path was marked with art.
For seven days, he ran. He collapsed and shouted his hands skyward, seeking the mother he never had in a tree. This was his other.
She was concerned about the depth of his faith so decided to practice hers. She already survived Hades resting place where creativity’s marrow was sucked from her soul and she sought counsel in the clouds.
Sounds of a ritualized morning beckoned her from the sky. He opened the aperture of her life and grew himself in her womb. The body of his home now received her touch, the echoes of laughter and love making swam through stone and wood. She held her lion’s hand as his compass for navigating the shadow. He always had courage and seeing Waxing Gibbous reminded him of her light. He knew his light was lovable and finally had proof the entirety of his makeup being dressed down was loved, too.
She was his shelter. She was his light. They were love.
Investing their dividends, they wrote a business plan for their perspectives: luxurious utilitarianism and altruistic indulgence.
Getting behind the wheel is something that gives me a feeling of freedom… the car door is like the door to a secret passage way that you KNOW will lead you to adventure. I packed up my car with my dog in the backseat, Joseph Campbell and Kahlil Gibran audiobooks, two new music albums and headed from Texas to Colorado with hope. I’m not sure what I was hopeful for or hoping would happen but I was inspired to the very core of my soul. My sense of sound was bathed in truth by these sonic muses as a new awareness permeated my being.
Back when I started training to be a yoga teacher, I sold my TV because I didn’t want it as a distraction from the work I felt ready to do. I decided to follow my bliss and figure out what I could do to help make the world a better place. I felt a strong calling and I needed to use my time wisely. This trip taught me that I was consumed with my work and it became an easy way to hide from love by making myself busy.
The time in the car helped me see my television addiction just shifted to Twitter, Facebook, YouTube, & Instagram. What was my motivation for all this checking in? I wanted to connect with more people but instead I avoided connecting to the silence and depth of my love. Afraid of my own sensitivity, I used my library card.
I can’t wait to get back into teaching this week so I can keep having the conversations that really matter to me. I start my new Creative Process Yoga class when I do a month-long residency at The Crow Collection of Asian Art in Dallas. My hope is to provide space for deeper listening and honesty with this class… Both for myself and my students.
We are all on a hero’s journey. Some of us know what we seek and others are completely unaware they are living a life of purpose. Joseph Campbell wrote a book called A Hero with a Thousand faces that outlines the myth of the hero. You can think of it as if your life is a book and you are the hero of the book. The hero changes the world. The hero helps others. The hero lives an extraordinary life.
In order to live this type of larger-than-life myth, the hero is put through a series of tests that give him the wisdom he needs to continue on his path. He learns the truths of the universe.
There is usually a refusal to go once he has been called on the adventure of life. Typically, he is in a place of comfort and security and he knows by moving outside of his comfort zone, there will be the void of the unknown. At least there is a nice little graphic that can help navigate the process.
The more we deny our purpose and ignore the call… the more we convince ourselves we want to live our lives according to our own plans, the more we suffer. Suffering can come in the form of bad relationships, illness, a desire to numb out, or distractions of any kind.
When we practice surrendering, we can observe how much we are clinging to our own ideals. We want to get closer to universal truth and further away from ego and mind-constructs. A practice that helps with this is Yin and Restorative yoga. The best pose I’ve found to notice how to surrender is Balasana, or Child’s Pose: Come to all fours, lower hips to heels, forehead comes to floor, hands move beside body, palms face up. As you breathe, notice the gripping within the muscles of the legs… the face… the shoulders. Practice letting go.
I feel blessed. This week, I take my Advanced Yoga Studies students on their graduation retreat to Playa del Carmen.
I’ve been meditating on what to teach and I’m thrilled to say we will be exploring several ideas:
Don’t Hold Back – Show Us Who You Are
Are You Fiercely Loving?
Inspire & Be Inspired – The Light Within
The Soundtrack to Your Mind
I can’t wait to share the space with you guys… This is going to be fun!!
Ever since I saw my first TED talk by Jill Bolte Taylor describing her experience during her stroke, I was enchanted with TED talks.
I, too, had a series of small strokes that left me with double vision and debilitating headaches. My left eye could no longer move and I had resigned myself to always rely on other people to take care of me – a huge feat for a person who craves solitude and independence. I was sad. I was depressed. I needed help taking myself to the bathroom. My life looked so much different than what I had dreamed of as a little girl.
To cheer me up, I was given art supplies because I had said in passing, “I always wanted to be an artist.” I never took lessons but I discovered how to play and tap into the rhythm of oil painting. It was the biggest gift I had been given – relief from the pain, joy from expression, and a love of color that still charms me today.
The creative process is what healed me back to my version of normal (notice I didn’t say “normal” but “my version of normal” because I am definitely a little off-center)… but this time, I had a mission – to live a creative life and teach others how to heal themselves through creative process.
My mind seeks connection in its isolation so I seek to find ways of joining things together. Yoga was the best medium I found for joining people to a deeper connection within and outside of themselves. My teachers always talked about energy in class. Though I understood its meaning in an abstract way, I couldn’t stop thinking about the E in Einstein’s Theory of Relativity. I’ve re-imagined his theory to show how our lives and connection to source/spirit/universe can be enhanced through simple conscious breathing and movement as a meditation. I found conscious breathing is the single most beneficial thing we can do to enhance brain function, spiritual connection and overall wellness. So I need a platform to share this with more people.
I decided I wanted to give my own TED talk so I applied and was accepted to audition a 5 minute talk at TEDxSMU. I learned so much about myself, my expectations, my hopes, my dreams and my desire to communicate effectively. The stillness was palpable when the crowd was observing their senses.
This was an experience I will always treasure despite it being a horrible record of my public speaking skills. I couldn’t remember any of my jokes or any of the points I wanted to make. All in all, I sucked but at least I can say I did it.
We held a funeral
for a piece of her
that lived
only in darkness.
Despair
was dying
her dreams lay
above clouds,
a comet
only comes once.
The ladder
goes on, and on, and on,
into infinity
with wings
I fly to you.
There is a man who pushes a cart around the neighborhood, collecting cans from recycle bins. I’m assuming he is homeless. He’s become as familiar as my next door neighbor with his routine stop in front of my house and we always wave, give the obligatory smile, and the neighborly exchange of conversational pleasantries.
At first, I felt pity for this man… how it must feel to not have a home… how he must be living in fear. My ability to project my own fears of survival on this man led me to see there is no indication from him that he is afraid. He actually seems quite happy as he delivers a nugget of wisdom in conversation, “You deserve the truth.”
Then I felt envious of his reality – time is simply measured by sunlight. He need not wear a watch as he is free to do anything with his time. The watch is my albatross. Freedom exists in the mind and reality is what we make of it.
I aim to live more like this man – wandering with the sun as my guide, wondering with my shadow behind.
Perfume of coffee and taste of unshaven legs… the anticipation of art as a container for infinite expression. How does a shadow dance? Where do glances fall? As she approached the tarmac, she wasn’t yet cleared for landing. Baited in breath, the path became clear. There is something rich in mistaken identity as the winter’s trees pretend to have no protection. Just as in every theory, it has yet to be proven.
Her shade was taken away so the sun was in connection – more directly this time. Who was it? Where is that voice?
Belief – faith, even – is what resonates. Recalling bleeding retinas, her grandfather hadn’t warned her about looking into the sun. She assumed it was necessary to go into the light – to bathe in the rays of glorified nothingness.
To become who you truly are and imbibe power beyond form is what creates discernment. Just as the clouds scraped the rays from her skin, she exhaled. Guilt became an extension in the call directory of her thoughts; the number rarely dialed. This unwavering disregard for punishment along the gallows resulted in a sensation between her shoulder blades. What would she do with this new sense of freedom?
She put in place a policy of truth-seeking and truth-speaking that became the touchstone in her future conversations that always pierced into the essence of now. Ultimately, she was her own beneficiary and time an imagined jaded lover. She became provocative… pro-active. Gentle in her approach, the blending of creative energies was her offering.
It’s been quite some time since I posted a playlist. Tuesday’s Open Flow class was special for me because I was thinking about how I’ve been inspired by beautiful art and performances recently.
I wanted to bring forward an exciting energy to help us get closer to our human desires and ultimate longing. I posed the question, “What is your purpose?” I’m interested in those dreams you fear are too big to be uttered… those things you pictured doing when you were a kid… the ideal life you know you are meant to lead.
I think it was 1999 and I was watching a rehearsal on the SNL set. Lorne Michaels’ office is at the top of the seats and there were two kids hanging out there. I introduced myself and learned that one was Lorne’s son and the other was Paul Simon’s. They were on a baseball team together and Paul Simon’s kid said when he grows up, he wants to colonize the moon. Really. That was his dream.
Some of us know exactly what we are supposed to be doing with our lives and some of us aren’t even sure where to begin in writing life’s mission statement.
I’ve always known I wanted to be a teacher. I’ve always known I wanted to be an artist. I’ve always known my main goal is happiness. I was not, however, always true to that vision. I adhered to a standard of what was expected of me. I lived my life through the lens of another’s expectation. Then everything changed and I kept my focus on what I truly want, re-defining the means to get there along the way. The path isn’t always clear but I do keep stepping, even when it seems like the next step my lead me off a cliff. It’s ok, if I fall, I know how to use my wings to land safely again.
What makes you happy? Joseph Campbell calls it “Follow Your Bliss” and how beautiful is that notion? You possess the bliss already… you just have to follow the path.
The thing that unites us is love. It is our highest calling. Love is the best we can possibly be. It is a presence, an openness, a vulnerability, a doing… it is a way of being. We can think about this pretty easily as we’ve all loved and been loved before. But are we fully living up to love’s standard of equality and infinite capacity? If I were to gather an accurate picture of how much I am fully, 100% loving, I am sad to say that far too often, fear and judgement make guest appearances in the sitcom of my mind. We can make it a practice – practice love. Practice acceptance.
We’ve all built up ways of protecting our hearts and hiding from our co-created destiny. But it is time. It is time for us to live! It is time to live our lives inspired. It is time to watch our dreams come true.
All. of. Us.
Sending you love. 🙂
Inspire me beyond illusion
In the space where
we are both seen
Listen
Taming the wild dream
Love into your vision
Let’s tie you up
in my apron strings
I’ve been asked by hundreds of people about yoga privates for creatives. OK, that is a lie… no one has asked me about that but I have found that as an artist, my yoga practice is the single most valuable thing that helps me remain creative.
I am now offering custom privates for any creative professional who would like to light their creative fire again, find peace of mind, or just relax while on the road or traveling.
Creative Process Privates – Designed for the musician, artist, or creative professional who is looking to find their muse again. The privates are custom-designed for the artist’s needs and goals to include yoga poses, mindfulness techniques, meditations, and guided relaxation. The sessions are recorded so they can be taken while traveling.
Email trina at treenuh dot com for more information.
Treenuh on a Trapeze from Trina Hall on Vimeo.
What is faith?
My journey into answering this question started with the observation that for most of my life, I was living in fear. Fear of not being loved, fear of not being good enough, fear of not being pretty, fear of speaking my mind, fear of heights… the list goes on. So if I am living in fear, I need to understand how to turn the other way. What is the opposite of fear?
I sought counsel from one of my teachers who said, “There is a net beneath you. Let go. You will be caught.” I don’t know how much I believed her but I wanted to go straight into feeling my fear to see what is on the other side. I needed a goal to bring me face to face with fear, so I decided to conquer my fear of heights by flying on a circus trapeze.
I stood there at the bottom of the rig, analyzing every detail of how this whole thing could go wrong. The ladder could break. The net could be poorly attached to the bars and I could fall to my death. The person catching me could drop me, sending me head-first into a tree (I have flown from a trampoline head-first into a tree so this one wasn’t so irrational). Just thinking about the experience is making my palms sweat. I climbed 32 feet up this wobbly ladder onto a platform, and as I held the bar, ready to jump off the ledge, I realized I have to have faith in order to jump. Faith that everyone who put the rig together did it properly…. faith that my trapeze partner will catch me. Then I looked down and saw the net. Funny how life works.
I flew through the air and when I landed safely in the net, I exhaled and thought of all the agony I put myself through by listening to my fear.
What fears am I listening to in my life? I wanted to share my passion for yoga but I was afraid I wasn’t good enough to be a teacher. When I got home from the trapeze experience, I signed up for a yoga teacher training program. If I had not acknowledged my fear, I never would have had the faith in myself to sign up for the training.
Faith is mysterious and sometimes ellusive. Faith is knowing there is a net. Faith is knowing we are exactly where we need to be.
Are you ready to jump?
Last night, one of my students offered a toast as we celebrated the end of our 100 hour educational journey, “Even when you think you aren’t making a difference in someone’s life, you are.” Of course, I start crying because it hit me first like a pin into a pin cushion, then like a freight train with the realization this is what I am trying to do.
I want to make a difference. Yoga is the best tool I have found for bringing people together… and I want more people to feel connected. I want to connect to as many people as possible.
Making something ancient and esoteric into something approachable and applicable to modern life has been a beautiful process. Looking over all my lesson plans, my notes, recorded classes, manuals, research, etc., it is evident that I have loved the process of unearthing my ideas.
Yes, I am the kind of person who stops to smell roses… I enjoy the drinking of nectar from life’s fruits. There are times, though, when I seem to be the nail and life seems to be the hammer continuously teaching me a painful lesson. Perhaps the bleeding from my skull should be and indication that it is time to make a change… Time to stop wanting more and time to inhale the fragrance of this moment. If we can all accept that everything is temporary, why do we want to extend the good times and get away from the darkness in life?
My job affords me the opportunity to meet amazing men and women who share such a sacred space with little ol me. I had a moment in class this morning when I realized I am over flowing with gratitude to be able to teach yoga the way I do to the people I do. Each of my students touches me in such a profound and special way and I am forever grateful. It is moments like this I want to sustain… I want to contain… I want to name… As if documenting it makes it more real… As if sharing it in this forum and with friends and family helps me inhale its perfume just a weeeeeee bit longer…
I am content with that illusion.
Monet came to the woods
palette of Goldenrod dusted,
feet crush the fall.
Snake became his staff
furrowed brow in hand.
Casting thought on River’s spine
he took the path without footsteps.
A week ago, I was out walking and came across this pond. It seemed magical as I looked at it from the shore. It is as if the pond wanted to insulate itself with this covering… a security blanket adding an aura of solidarity, protecting the fragile and sensitive nature of the water.
Algae is the most basic natural food source in a pond and helps balance the entire ecosystem. If there was no algae, the food system would fall apart.
I think sometimes we feel that if we don’t have our blanket of security to distance us from true heart and spirit connection, we would fall apart. The truth is, we want to appear strong as a survival instinct. Beneath all the layers, we all just want to be loved.
“Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.”
-Leonard Cohen
At the wishing well
casting coin.
Inhale with closed eyes
I Dream.
Seeing vivid hues
I exhale.
Vacillate in the contrast
white on white.
Black and white
Dark to light
Dive into grey.
Between fear and Faith
I hang.
The cross between vision and expectation
Hang me there.
Lift the veil
Tears mourning Hope
Keep the change.
Sacrifice the mind
Fall in the well
A technicolor parachute
turns to grey dreams.
We’ve all lost someone we love… whether through death, divorce, or distance, grieving is something we all experience. There’s even a model, outlining with gross accuracy, the seven stages of grief.
I was exposed to death when my hero, Grandpa, died 20 years ago. He was my idea of what a man should be – strong, caring, kind, loving, funny – yet when he died, it was sudden and so easy. I still feel him around me.
I witnessed death face to face when my cat of 14 years, Ebby, died in my arms. It may sound morbid but I feel so grateful to have been there with her as she passed. Watching her take her last breath and her spirit drifting off… I will never forget how that felt.
My grandma, Grace, died on Thursday. Grace… a name so appropriate for this woman. She and I spoke openly and clearly about her death for 10 years, discussing how she was ready to let go. When I visited her the day before her passing, she was unresponsive. As we gather around her bed, surrounding her with love, she came back to life. Her speech was slow to develop but after about 10 minutes, she was talking to me as if nothing was wrong, “Trina, it is so good to be loved.” “Yes, Grandma, it is good to be loved and it is good to love. You can let go now. We will all be fine.”
Letting go – what a beautiful experience. Life is the final attachment we must relinquish and I believe it involves cutting the connection to our bodies, our loved ones, our minds and surrendering to space.
The space between the thoughts.
The source beyond knowing.
The being beyond being.
Feeling the parts of me Grandma directly impacted and pieces of my character Grandpa is directly responsible for make me think of the sum of a human life. We are the result of all our experiences and we hold pieces of loved one within ourselves. Looking back at the people who have loved me and those who I have loved, I am deeply grateful.
Yes, we all experience loss… What we do with it is what matters. Are we going to stay in the darkness of sadness, regret, and shame or are we going to move to light? I’ve lost loved ones from death, divorce, and distance. I am still in the grieving process for many of these lost loves. The process of grief is the same and we end in acceptance. My prayer is that I accept and surrender with gratitude and faith.
I just received a text message from one of my dearest chosen family members: “I bet your grandma is enjoying the view of the fireworks from the clouds.” Yes, I bet she is.
(The photo on this post is a painting I did when I found out a friend of mine lost his mother. This is my expression of the way it feels when you lose someone you love.)
What I’ve Done by Marie Digby is amazeballs (thanks to Zach Braff for the nomenclature). Certain songs say, “Hi, I’d like for you to cry today, human.”
Standing in my own shadow, reflected from the moon’s light on Eve’s eve of the full moon, I discovered I stand in my fear. Before this point of solid reflection along the path I walked tonight, I felt the importance of foundation. My lover took my hand as I reluctantly tread across lava graced by the presence of algae, making each step – hand-in-hand – something I questioned. Was this the right step to take? Am I going about this the right way? Is the lighting deceiving me? Fear after fear poured through my never-ending well of guessing to the second degree. I voiced my opinions and desire to be on solid ground – I spoke my truth. Then, in an instant we arrived to his destination and I stood in awe of the experience… standing on hardened lava, the waves rushed in and broke just beyond our vantage point. Fear had enveloped me along this path, like sand around my toes, I wanted to sift through the truth of it all. If water represents emotions, I learned that once I conquer the fear, another emotion will come to shore with a desire to be experienced. It is all the same as long as I don’t assign a label to the experience. I want to live more in the flow and watch how things come and go – they will and I have a choice.
treenuhyoga.com 
