Wherever you go, there you are.
I don’t know who said it first. But this phrase hung proudly on a tree at my summer camp. I didn’t understand it’s relevance as a tween, but by now, this adage is commonplace.
Usually when I desire a change, I want to run or hide. The problem with this is, wherever I run to, I will still find myself and the same issues. Learning to sit and stay has taught me how to face hard things, the parts of myself I want to suppress, and the challenges I would rather avoid. Instead of layering on newness and rising to new challenges, I choose continue to work on the things that will be lifelong efforts. This is never boring, as this is never ending. We don’t need something new when we keep coming up against our old self.
There is no magic to it, it’s simply an act of practice and endurance. This is based on a trust that we have within us the ability to transcend the hardships we face. It can be exhausting at times.
This work is present for me every day, as I teach yoga as an elective class at a Boston Public School, the Frederick Pilot Middle School. In four daily classes, I see 6-8th graders completely steeped in their feelings. Remember your Middle School self? Stop and visualize for a moment. Sometimes, my students say really horrible things to each other, or to me. Oftentimes there are moments of violence. I deal daily with regular disrespect from kids that don’t realize how hurtful their words are, or how human I actually am. This is my second school year doing this. I can vividly remember times that I wanted to flee my classroom, run to my car, and never return. I can remember times that I lost my cool in front of the kids. There are times that I just sit down, in the middle of a chaotic classroom, and take five deep breaths. There have been times that I go to the wall and do a handstand. I have cried in my classroom. I have yelled at the top of my lungs (as a yoga teacher, crazy, right?!). I have given F’s in yoga, more F’s than I care to admit. I see my students escaping their lives via their phones, group texts, Snap, and Fortnite every day. When I asked my students what was important to them, most of them said their phones, even after I implored them to name something IRL.
Yet there have been moments of being completely seen when I can make a connection with a troubled kid. There have been moments of supreme bliss. There have been students who have told me me that yoga makes them happy, or that my classroom makes them feel safe. There are students who act out in every other class, but come into yoga and ask me for a blanket so they can lay on their mat and sleep.
Today I talked about my morning meditation practice. I brought my mala in and showed them how I count a bead on each inhale and exhale. Every round takes me five minutes, and I do seven rounds (how many minutes is that?) every morning. I got mixed reactions. One student told me that sounded incredibly boring. Another asked me why I did it. I told them that I have had some of my most interesting experiences in my life doing this practice, and that I needed to do it every day in order to be ready for all of them.
When I was younger, I thought that traveling or wandering the world was the answer to understanding myself. And it was, in many ways. I was exposed to different cultures, ways of life, and usually welcomed with open arms. I have been all over the globe, and still have many places I want to see.
But mostly, I want to see the space inside of myself where I can feel pure contentedness, even bliss. I want to experience joy in mundanities. I want to look at every single person with Buddha eyes. When I taste that sweet joy, and I have, it becomes apparent that there is no place more interesting than our own space within.
This year is my tenth year practicing daily meditation, and it has been a godsend for me. When I moved to Boston 14 years ago, I thought I would just be here for a few years. But now, I look around and see the benefit of staying. I have built a strong community that is growing every day. I have dear dear friends, that know and understand me thoroughly, just a stone’s throw away. I have been able to be present at the births of (almost) all of my nieces and nephews. I have been able to see my Dad every week as he approaches the end of his life. I have been able to call neighbors and take a walk when I am blue. I have a plethora of yoga studios where I get heartfelt hugs every time I enter.
I could find this elsewhere, and I could build it again. But, why? What I am more interested in is building something inside that will sustain me for this lifetime. It is obvious that the opportunity for learning and development is ever-present, and I am so grateful that I must practice this every day. How hard is it for you to sit and stay? How many times have you wondered if meditation would help you find more peace? If you are interested in developing this essential skill, try one of these practices.
I am elated by the number of people (now 10% of our population) that practice yoga. To me this is a sign that the earth is coming to realize the answer for peace comes from being present with ourselves and our current realities. You don’t need to move or go to India or take that posh yoga retreat to grow! This doesn’t invalidate the benefits of exploration and personal conquest. Yet it completely validates our desire for something more… The bliss comes when we realize we don’t need to look beyond ourselves to find it.
