Hello, yoga friends!
I’ve been quiet lately. Part of that is due to the sheer amount of creative energy and deep presence that my toddler daughter requires of me — the frustrating thing is that she also GIVES this creative energy and presence BACK to me, and tenfold, but without reliable childcare it can be tough to channel that bright, shimmery, excited energy into a creative outlet. The other part is that I have just simply… felt quiet. More introspective and dark, more yin than yang. Substack feels so saturated and sometimes I don’t want to add to the content. The quietness has me feeling guilty, because I want to show up for you and be in conversation and community with you, I want to teach and chat, and I also want to want to. I know I can’t force these things, especially when I’m in survival mode. But I am starting to want to, again. We are exploring a part-time nanny for my daughter (today is the first day) which means, I hope, that I can be more engaged and offer more on here. More on that later.
First, first— I want to wish you a happy June. I love the month of June. I love crossing over the lush, clover-filled threshold from spring to summer, I love the buzzing aliveness, the music of birds I can’t name, the impeccable magnolias. I love my bare feet on the dirty, chalk-covered patio, and I love the feeling of sitting at the top of the rollercoaster drop with my busy summer plans laid out before me. I also love June because it is the month I gave birth to my daughter (2 whole years ago!)— and was subsequently changed forever, of course. I feel this month on my skin, I feel it in my bones, I can remember, each year, what it felt like to be brimming and embodied and on a precipice. I have a feeling that you know what I’m talking about, even if you’ve never been pregnant. The way the body opens up to sunshine, the posture of summer, that anticipatory excitement.
So— happy June!
Things feel busy, with birthdays and work and parenthood and the chores of life. I’ve been teaching a lot, both at the senior center and at my local yoga studio (you can practice with me virtually there!) and continue to delve into the world of birth work. I go to the YMCA and take pilates and spin classes, I meal plan, I cook, I clean. I chase my toddler around the house, the park, the woods, the library, the grocery store. Half the time I don’t even know what I do, I just do. I write when I can. There’ve been plenty of tough moments and tough news peppered into all of that, too. Life is tough, life is beautiful.
Joe and I are working through Walking in This World, just started. I always feel more connected to my spirituality when working through Julia Cameron’s books, she just has a way about her. We also did an Ayurvedic spring cleanse a couple months ago. I know the word “cleanse” can feel kind of icky and toxic, but it honestly felt so gentle and nourishing, filled with hearty kitchari, soothing bone broths and gently spiced teas. Nothing about it felt restrictive or harsh, and I was never hungry- I say this as someone who fell into disordered eating habits in high school, who is very anti-diet culture. It was surprisingly interesting to observe how food and drink influences, distracts or governs my day-to-day existence. The first morning without my cup of coffee I had a bit of an internal hissy fit, but then I settled into the new temporary routine. When I removed exciting flavors or pops of caffeination, I was left with uncomfortable simplicity. But anyone who knows me knows that food and cooking and eating exciting flavors and going on my coffee runs brings me much joy, so I won’t be renouncing those things permanently anytime soon. Still, it was a necessary (for me) practice in exercising my discipline muscles, which had become a bit weakened. Anthony Bourdain wrote: “Your body is not a temple, it’s an amusement park. Enjoy the ride.” I think it’s both.
I’ve been revisiting the teachings of Thich Nhat Hanh lately. Joe got me one of his little pocket books, How To Smile. I read something he said about “encountering” the breath, “encountering” our inner experience, and I find that to be a really sweet and helpful approach to mindfulness— like, the breath is always there, but you could have an encounter with it, bump into it like an old friend. In general I feel drawn to and inspired by the simple concept of choosing joy, of deciding on happiness. Tara Brach talked about this on a podcast recently, I forget which episode it was- but she said that when scientists study happy people, the commonality is that they choose to be happy. They have taught themselves to savor small pleasures, like a tulip or a sunset. Speaking of embodiment, and pleasure, and chance encounters, this poem is gorgeous:
Moving on! I want to teach a pop-up class on Zoom this month, for paid subscribers. Could you fill out this poll letting me know what you’d like to see offered?
I am also thinking of offering a monthly meditation group for all subscribers — would you be interested in that?
Ok, bit of a rambling email today...! Thanks so much for letting me know your thoughts with the polls, and thanks for being here in general! You’re a miracle! Have a lovely rest of your week.
—B
PS- paid subscribers, you can find a fresh new playlist over in the class library ⭭⭭⭭