Hi Everyone,
The kids and I have really been enjoying visiting Grandma and Grandpa in Vermont. In fact, we like it so much we’ve decided to stay. (I knew this would happen.)
In the mornings, I’ve been sitting on the front porch, watching the sunrise sparkle the dew on the lawn, sipping my coffee, and reading Brene Brown’s Gifts of Imperfection. This really resonates with me:
Let go of who you think you’re supposed to be, to become who you truly are.
My body, my being, loves being home in Vermont. But my mind has struggled. A lot.
“But I told people I was moving to California!”
“But I had this other idea – my plan!”
It is funny how strong these thoughts are. How obligated I feel by the plans I made for myself (don’t worry – I am still doing my Eponaquest Apprenticeship).
Yoga teaches us: My thoughts are not ME.
I can observe these thoughts coming and going. There is a deeper and wiser aspect of my being.
This wiser part of all of us has little to do with “thought” and more to do with deep knowing.
My thoughts tell me I “should” be the person following the plan I thought up.
My wiser being knows who I am.
My wiser being knew I was coming home.
I look out on the lush, green landscape, feel the tinge of fall in the air, and listen to the deep, quiet spaciousness of the trees and the sky.
Let go of who you think you’re supposed to be, to become who you truly are.
My wiser being knows that I am no less because of a change of plan.
My being is not diminished or disturbed by change, by challenge, by hardship. It simply is what it is.
The poet, Mary Oliver, writes from this place of knowing, of deep being-awareness. She says:
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.
Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
I watch the dew shine with a thousand fleeting colors.
I sip the warm delicious coffee and feel the life-affirming heat of the cup in my hands.
A cup made of clay by other hands and tempered in the fire so that it too could arrive at this moment. Pure in its being. Present. Whole.
Could it be broken?
Yes.
And yet here it is. Home on grandpa’s porch.
Namaste,
Erin Menut
p.s. Maybe you want to read The Gifts of Imperfection too?
I’ll be leading a Fall online Book group starting this September.
Email me for details… radiantenergyforlife@gmail.com