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When I lie in savasana and hear Adrienne say a taste of surrender, something in me quickens. Or slows rather. More fully relaxes. What if I stopped resisting surrender as if it will hurt. Counterintuitively, what if it feels like coming home?
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The body carries a language and wisdom all its own. This isn’t something I can prove or offer much in the way of rational explanations. It’s probably something that must be experienced. But it begins with an openness to believing this might be true.
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I roll over in bed at two thirty in the morning this past winter, hearing my infant’s cries. Usually in that moment all I want to do is keep sleeping. Yet there are breaths now when a thought reminds me: this is my monastery bell tolling. I have to get up and answer that bell.
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It seems I have a choice. Either I can be frustrated that parenting inhibits my desire to do other things that I consider “more spiritual,” or I can accept the current limitations of my life and trust that those very limitations are the means of my spiritual transformation in this season.
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The real question is, what is the framework or principles behind the monastic life? What purpose does it serve? And are those principles transferable to another way of life?
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There is a tendency to equate abundance with comfort. When I search for abundance in my life, I often search for moments of gratitude and joy, moments that feel good, moments when I can notice the Divine showing up. But if this is true, then my ability to find abundance in this season is limited.
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Today I’m exhausted from feeling at war within myself. My husband woke up sick and spent most of the day in bed, which has left me juggling three children alone. My cognitive brain obviously knows none of this is my husband’s fault. He doesn’t feel well. A compassionate human being would just feel empathetic, brew…
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Birth is a type of death and death is a type of birth. We tend to think of a life on a linear timeline, birth at one end and death as far from it as possible on the other. But if you place life on a circle, the two endpoints touch and meet, intertwined—perhaps one…
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Preparing these crabapples for edibility is not the most efficient or classically productive use of my time, yet there is also something about it that feels satisfying. Embodied. It forces me to slow down, inviting me to be fully present with the task.
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Danielle Klafter 