Dear First name / Friend

 

I thought this summer was going to be magic, turns out I have to redefine magic.

 

Magic is not calm or peaceful, magic is not a perfect sunset or an exquisite symphony. Magic may include these things, but it is so much bigger than that. Magic is being fully present to this fleeting life we were gifted.

 

Magic holds wonders like dancing in a field of lightning bugs or swimming with dragonflies, as well as embracing your own and other’s irritability, sadness, grief, disappointment and pain. You don’t have to like it, yet all of it is welcome. 

 

However during my summer of slowing down, this got challenging. I leaned hard on this meditation  which guided me back to one of my favorite mantras:

 

 

Try it on, see how it lands. For me it dissolves the past, which no longer exists, and blows future possibilities wide open. This, right here right now, is all there is. Facing the present moment in this way invites me to wonder, how do I want to show up in my life? Cause life is just trillions of moments strung together.

 

I'm noticing my authentic self, underneath all the hats I wear, is revealing herself. I am discovering the places where my identity is gripped and am slowly opening my hands to loving curiosity. 

 

I am reminded, again and again, all of creation is my ally.

But in the spirit of honesty, what about when I don’t want to be present? 

 

What about when I want to numb or avoid because it's just too painful, or it's not what I WANT to be happening in any given moment or time?

 

In my summer slowness I watched a grasshopper leaping from rock to rock and I quickly learned they have the power of camouflage. An exquisite adaptation to protect from threat. Sometimes presence can feel like a threat and I want to camouflage into the couch, binge on a show, or devour a novel. Bringing gentleness to this adaptation helps it come and go. As Carl Jung reminds us, “What you resist, persists.” 

 

When escapism is embraced, rather than resisted or shamed, you are less likely to get stuck in numbing habits. In the words of folk singer Gillian Welch, “I wanna do right, but not right now.” 

 

So as the August supermoon begins to wane, and we are turning towards September, I will be resuming my full time practice along with writing and teaching. The echoes of this summer will ripple into my life, with one lesson truly standing out: