Instagram · Sep 15, 2017
Transitions mean change. Change has an inheritant taste of death to it, and death is scary.
I have historicaly been guiled by the idea of the encroach of Winter. It means the death of my favorite, Summer. Bribed by Halloween and all things pumpkin, I still don't much like putting away my tank tops and finding long sleeves.
This fall, I'm trying to change my tune. We like the idea of transforming into something better/stronger/wiser-- and transformation IS change. In my life, I don't want to be averse to change, Autumn or otherwise. It's an ignorance, to think things aren't always changing. Yoga practice is designed to free up that baggage.
In the Equinox, I practiced by the pool at @vidafitnessdc on U Street where I teach two new classes. I see in the eyes of practitioners a certain kind of hesitation and dare I say distrust at this new class, in me a new teacher, to them. I get it... I teach a practice that asks of them a real attention and effort. It is precisely so potent because of that. It's also sometimes scary to get a real, sober look at the churning of the mind.
It pings me strongly, as I feel a current kind of way about the transition of seasons and see inside of them an analog to me. I want these folks who turn up to trust me, to give potent and authentic practice a real go. But I know it requires time and attention. As I told my friend @mbwould-- "You can't hatefuck someone into trusting you." What to do? I'm gonna give fall a real chance. On my end, its the same as for them. These aspirants and I have a similar working schema:
1) Show up.
2) Pay attention.
3) Be willing to feel.
4) Be willing to try.
5) Be willing to not know.
7) BE WILLING TO LAUGH.
8) Be willing to try again.
Yesterday, I tried to welcome change. I went into the old street car station in Dupont and did a gong bath with @takefivemeditation -- letting the waves wash over me. Old ideas, can't force them away, but I can soften my grip. I can show up and look where I fight change. Maybe I can see things as they are, maybe I can lead by example. Change happens. But it doesn't have to happen violently.
I have historicaly been guiled by the idea of the encroach of Winter. It means the death of my favorite, Summer. Bribed by Halloween and all things pumpkin, I still don't much like putting away my tank tops and finding long sleeves.
This fall, I'm trying to change my tune. We like the idea of transforming into something better/stronger/wiser-- and transformation IS change. In my life, I don't want to be averse to change, Autumn or otherwise. It's an ignorance, to think things aren't always changing. Yoga practice is designed to free up that baggage.
In the Equinox, I practiced by the pool at @vidafitnessdc on U Street where I teach two new classes. I see in the eyes of practitioners a certain kind of hesitation and dare I say distrust at this new class, in me a new teacher, to them. I get it... I teach a practice that asks of them a real attention and effort. It is precisely so potent because of that. It's also sometimes scary to get a real, sober look at the churning of the mind.
It pings me strongly, as I feel a current kind of way about the transition of seasons and see inside of them an analog to me. I want these folks who turn up to trust me, to give potent and authentic practice a real go. But I know it requires time and attention. As I told my friend @mbwould-- "You can't hatefuck someone into trusting you." What to do? I'm gonna give fall a real chance. On my end, its the same as for them. These aspirants and I have a similar working schema:
1) Show up.
2) Pay attention.
3) Be willing to feel.
4) Be willing to try.
5) Be willing to not know.
7) BE WILLING TO LAUGH.
8) Be willing to try again.
Yesterday, I tried to welcome change. I went into the old street car station in Dupont and did a gong bath with @takefivemeditation -- letting the waves wash over me. Old ideas, can't force them away, but I can soften my grip. I can show up and look where I fight change. Maybe I can see things as they are, maybe I can lead by example. Change happens. But it doesn't have to happen violently.