Just outside the window, a woman with scrunched eyebrows jostles through a pack of her fellow holiday shoppers. I wonder if she is heading around the corner to Kitsilano Wine Cellar to find the perfect wine decanter for a sister-in-law that she rarely talks to or perhaps across the street to Le Chateau to dig through the racks for an age appropriate sweater for her pre-teen daughter (who will probably return it for something less age appropriate).
As I settle into a comfortable seated position on my yoga mat at Semperviva, a rush of gratitude surges through me that I am on this side of the window and that I am finally well enough to huff the four blocks up the hill to Semperviva’s gorgeous new studio space.
I need to seize every opportunity to practice my downward dog and re-build my upper body strength because as of January 24th, recovering from my final surgery will become my new around the clock job. For now, this Tuesday at noon class is a perfect mid-day writing break.
As the woman rounds the corner and out of my line of sight, I close my eyes, pull my shoulders blades down my back, and attempt to focus on my breath. Carolyn, one of my new favourite teachers, reads the following passage attributed to an unknown Hopi Elder from the Hopi tribe in Northeastern Arizona:
“There is a river flowing now very fast. It is so great and swift that there are those that will be afraid. They will try to hold on to the shore. They will feel that they are torn apart and will suffer greatly.
Know that the river has its destination. The elders say that we must let go of the shore, push off into the middle of the river, keep our eyes open, and our heads above water. And I say, see who is in there with you and celebrate. At this time in history, we are to take nothing personally, least of all ourselves. For the moment that we do, our spiritual growth and journey come to a halt.
The time for the lone wolf is over. Gather yourselves! Banish the word struggle from your attitude and your vocabulary. All that we do now must be done in a sacred manner and in celebration.
For we are the ones that we have been waiting for.”
This is the exact message I needed to hear this week and at this time of year. When the anxiety of my unknown future reaches up and claws at my throat, instead of beating it back by trying to control something (anything), I remember the words from this unknown elder. Moment by moment, I practice releasing the shoreline and trusting that life will carry me perfectly to my next destination.
I hope that you enjoy the holiday season surrounded by friends and family and that in 2011, I will see you bobbing along the river beside me.
Merry Christmas!
