Every month I get to lead a yoga class that is for moms only. We come together, sometimes weary and worn, but together indeed we come. We hold fiercely honest, vulnerable and loving spaces for one another. We share, we sweat, we cry and today we went and drank beer together for the first time (which was almost as awesome as crying and holding hands).
We are all living out our own lives beneath the blue skies of the roofs of our homes – drawn into the universes of US (our husband, our children, our extended families). It’s easy to sometimes feel as though the walls around are an island, cutting us out from the rest of the world while we experience our worlds alone. It is only when we come together and have the courage to share our hearts when we realize that we do indeed share the same story. We are all connected by the same thread. We have all once clung to the same umbilical cord that gives life and we are all on the same road looking for the way back home.
It’s unbelievable humbling when I am able to slip into pockets of understanding our connection, because I too fall into my own pit of isolation and fear and aloneness. And then THAT, that fear quickly becomes my teacher to remind me that all I need to do is breathe – let go – and remember. And I am back here with you once again.
I’m no Rumi – but I will see you in my field. The wide open space in our hearts where the infinite and limitless live alongside boundless compassion and love.
Swa-mother-fucking-ha. (pardon my language but it’s an inside joke that really gave this post the punch it need right there at the end)
#365things #mamatribe #gurumama