I’m sure she’s a lovely woman. I have no reason to believe that she’s in the business or habit of freaking out random yoginis around the world folding laundry and contemplating “WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN?” She just, well, happens to do it. Namely to me.
Somehow this brilliant woman knows what I need to read or do when I need to do it. Pretty freaking amazing considering I don’t even know what I need or when I need it. Today is no exception.
Something totally random and unexpected happened this past weekend. To paraphrase Clark Griswold, I couldn’t be more surprised than if I had woken up with my face stapled to the carpet. I have been bouncing back and forth between being thrilled and excited and scared and annoyed and fearful and hopeful and confused and all of those feelings have been accompanied by me looking like this:
I’d tell you what it is, but it really only means anything at all to a couple of people and they already know, so let’s move on, eh?
I have been spending almost every waking moment thinking about the past or the future. I’ve been freaking out about what happened in the past to make this event so momentous and about what might happen in the future as a result of this event and the Committee of Uninvited and Unhelpful Thoughts in my head have been screaming, “WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN?”
JHL writes that “Yoga is the willingness to be present,” and that we should practice the mantra “right here, right now.”
Truth is the past is passed. The future hasn’t happened. Wondering, freaking out, obsessing, pondering, ruminating and all that other pointless activity and thought is just that – pointless. I cannot see the future. I cannot change the past.
A dear friend of mine says, “When you have one foot in yesterday and one foot in tomorrow, you’re pissing all over today.” This is so true. If I am stressing about what has happened or might be happening, I have no idea and thus no appreciation for what is happening RIGHT NOW. Right now, I don’t have to decide. I don’t have to evaluate. I don’t have to do anything but wait for the message to come clear to me. Right now, I can enjoy the smell of dinner cooking, the sound of my kids laughing, and the blessings of an unknown future.
That same friend has also reminded me many times that what I need to do when the squirrel cage in my head is running amok is “be where my feet are.” Just be here. Right here, right now. I can dig it.
Thanks, JHL, for knowing what I need even when I don’t, for shaking this yogini up so that I can settle down. For reminding me to be present because nothing else exists.