In one of my favorite movies Chocolat, the protagonist, Vianne, lives a nomadic life, making chocolate and moving from town to town whenever a fierce wind rolls in, just as her female ancestors before her. Mary Poppins did this too, suspended in the air by her umbrella, calmly ascending into a new town at the tail end of a big, windstorm – the same kind that prompts her departure. Both of these characters possess a witchiness in their timing, intuition and influence on others – their presence seeming to be the very thing an entire village of people or family needs at the exact right moment. I just love a well-timed, influential, intuitive witch who lives by the wind – don’t you?
The winds of this past March have produced a desire in me to stir – ready for the next adventure, though not knowing what that might be. I’ve been feeling uncomfortably suspended, not as whimsical or demure as Mary Poppins, while impatiently waiting to land. In my discomfort, I’ve tried several times to devise a plan to root into.
Making plans often feels like a loose outline, something to be erased and rewritten or completely scrapped if it no longer feels right and the “wind” takes me in another direction. All of the “plans” that I devised were options that would take me far, far away, living a nomadic life (like Vianne) for weeks on end. As exciting as these options appeared, I couldn’t land on any of them.
Two weekends ago, in a day-long, inner child retreat, we were asked to write a letter to our younger self – one we had previously connected with in a visualization meditation. Mine is about six, with long, dirty-blond hair and bangs. She loved playing by herself, imagining her own worlds as she sat on her favorite mossy rock and explored the woods around her. At my current age, I still love exploring, especially on solo trips, which have taken me all over the world. I’ve realized that these times of solo exploration are when I feel closest to the Divine, God, the Universe. In my letter, I told my younger self to keep exploring, as long as it was rooted in a desire to discover, rather than a desire to escape.
In yoga, there is a term, samskara, referring to the unconscious behavioral inclinations we have. Through my practice, I’ve become aware that one of my unconscious inclinations is to retreat (aka escape) when things become challenging (maybe some of you can relate). In this recent challenging feeling of being suspended in the unknown, I found myself dreaming of where I could run off to. What kind of great, wild adventure could I go on next? Like our Archer, Arjuna, who you’ll hear about in the story below, I even entertained the idea of going to live in a monastery to live like an “ascetic” and get away from it all!
The story goes that Arjuna, being the most skilled warrior and archer, is called upon by Krishna, the Creator, to bring a ceaseless war to an end. At first, he dutifully accepts, though when it’s time for him to face the enemy, he becomes heavy with sadness, and says, “I cannot do this dreadful thing, I see now the wisdom of the ascetic, and will take up a begging bowl and renounce the world.” Krishna tells Arjuna that he is too attached to the outcome of his actions – that he’s lost sight of what his dharma is, his particular purpose, as a warrior. In his spiritual counsel, Krishna offers Arjuna a way to engage with the world without becoming overly enmeshed in it and counsels him to embrace a spiritual way of living without eschewing the world and falling prey to escapism.
Arjuna was trying to avoid an extremely challenging situation by renouncing the world and escaping his true calling. Through my spiritual practice, the contradiction became clear: I was trying to evade an “unrooted” feeling with more unrooting. No wonder nothing felt like it would land. My spiritual practice (yoga, reading spiritual texts, breathing, finding stillness) allowed me these “downloads” that have brought much-needed clarity. Clarity that will allow me to move into intentional action. That will allow me to land.
If you’ve been feeling a little suspended or ungrounded, may this remind you there is ground beneath you.
May this remind you that spiritual practice is valuable and it is attainable. When these practices and insights are shared in community, it allows all of us to draw from each other’s wells of wisdom, which is what compels me to share this story with you.
Whether you identify as spiritual or not, there is no denying that finding moments of stillness to invite calm and come back to yourself is a beneficial practice. That’s why I’m including the attached breathwork – to help you connect with your body, calm your nervous system, and create space to come back to you.
Thank you for being a part of this community. I look forward to seeing you in classes and gathering with you soon to hear what “downloads” you’ve been having lately.