It’s been a busy summer. In some ways, it’s zoomed by, faster than should be allowed by law. In other ways it’s seemed to last a very long time.
Do you ever feel like you are waiting for something, but you don’t know what it is? Yeah, like that. Hurry up and wait.
So what is it that I’m waiting for?
I spent four weeks in California over the summer, during which time I taught some private yoga classes, did some editing work, got to attend the premiere of Apocalypse Now Final Cut, spent two weeks at the beach, and drank coffee with my dad.
Sometimes—well, most of the time, actually—I don’t understand the significance of something I’ve written until it’s done, and I see it as a complete entity. Sometimes not even then. Sometimes it takes someone else telling me what it meant to them, for me to see what I have done. That sounds kind of sad, really…it’s either sad that I can’t see it, or brilliant that I can write something meaningful despite not being able to see it. Either way, I like hearing what other people get from what I have written. When I had a conversation with my Aunt Deepti (to whom the book is dedicated), she helped me clarify what I had written. In a nutshell, she told me I nailed our forties. So I can check that off my bucket list.
Beverley Green Finds True North is about getting to a certain point in your life and realizing that maybe it’s not quite as planned out as you thought it was, or should be. And that maybe a plan, in the traditional sense of the idea, isn’t necessary anyway. Maybe it’s about feeling your way forward, through and into a life that is as sweet as we can make it. Because honestly, if anyone else tells me that I need a life plan, I will slash their tires. Pretty ironic for someone who used to be in financial planning.
All of this makes me wonder again, why do I feel like I’m waiting for something? And what might it be, anyway? As one of my favorite illustrators, J. Otto Seibold, proclaimed in the title of one of his children’s books: The Fuchsia is Now.
One of my favorite yoga poses is Five-Pointed Star. You stand with your feet wide apart, arms outstretched. Feet root to the ground, arms reach up and out. The crown of your head reaches higher.
Many of us are conditioned to be small, to take up less space than we need or deserve. Whether we’ve been told we are small, or we simply think of ourselves as small as a coping mechanism, it happens. A lot.
When I teach Five-Pointed Star, I often tell people to “take up more space.” I tell them to reach higher, to make themselves bigger. And as I look around the room, I watch people grow, right before my eyes. It’s a beautiful thing and I never tire of watching it.
I’m not entirely sure how that’s connected to the rest of this blog post. I just write it down, you know? Maybe someday you and I will look back at this post, and it will all make perfect sense. At least I hope that’s the case.
As for what I’ve been waiting for…I don’t have an answer.
Maybe there is nothing to wait for.