The Beauty of Practice

I had something ready to go for this morning.  A poetic reminder of being instead of doing.  I will post it later today or tomorrow because sometimes - well, sometimes life shares with us something that needs to be passed along.

This morning was progressing beautifully - I completed a 15-minute yoga sequence while the kids got ready, the house quietly humming along.

Of course at the last minute, right before we are to leave for the bus stop, things fall apart.  My son's bag isn't ready, shoelaces untied, my daughter is crying...yeah.

My son and I finally exit the house...only for me to notice that he has just one glove on.  Upon asking him where the other one was, he sheepishly replied, "In the house" - at which point (my yoga calm now gone) I yelled at him to just run in and get it.  (Visions of the school bus whizzing past dancing in my mind.)

As he went in the house, I was left standing alone on the quiet driveway, brisk wind reminding me yet again of the season.

Whether it was the shock of the wind or a leftover result of yoga or just pure exhaustion I'll never know, but suddenly, I stopped complaining.  My just stopped.

I was there, experiencing the soft wind, listening as a pristine blanket of snow gently rustled on our roof, watching as the trees leaned into one another and then yawned back into a stretch.  Wind chimes, hung a few houses down, began a song to accompany this as if I were watching a documentary of beauty unfold before my eyes.  I was not cold, I was not angry - I just was.

My son returned with his other glove and we walked hand-in-hand down to the bus stop....arriving just as the bus did.

THIS is why I practice.  Why I practice awareness, yoga, art, journaling, meditation....

I don't really have any goals to reach enlightenment.  I don't really care if my toes touch the back of my head or if I sell a piece of art after a gallery display.  (Both would be kinda cool, though.)

I am fascinated with my experience of living.  Those things I practice?  The results start to infuse my life.  They change my entire way of being.  

There are so many ways of being (of feeling, experiencing the world)...I want to know them, for you to know them, for us to delight in playing with them.

And when mornings like this arise - which they will, again and again - I am eternally grateful to be able to experience them.


Lisa Wilson3 Comments