Hi, it's Alison,
As March comes to a close, I'm sending this monthly missive in the nick of time! I'd meant to write it last week, after co-teaching a meditation retreat at Seven Oaks, an Insight Meditation Center in Virginia. I'd brainstormed a list of possible directions for this newsletter, ranging from a wonderful saying my friend Dalila introduced me to—"On the spiritual path, if it isn't a paradox, it probably isn't true"—to the uplifting multi-faith Shabbat Iftar I attended during Ramadan alongside Muslim friends from college, to the song that's been keeping me going recently, “Everybody Deserves to Be Free” by Resistance Revival Chorus, with its simple, heart-opening message of our shared humanity and the power of mutual aid and solidarity.
Quick tangent: After playing the song in a course I'm currently teaching for mindfulness teachers, I got a very surprising note from one of the students, someone I'd just met: it turns out she's one of the singers in the group! What a small world!
What ended up happening is that none of those newsletter ideas came to pass because the second the retreat ended, I started to feel sick. Last week ended up being a blur of headaches and stomach upset. In my own life, and maybe in yours too, this is so often what happens: plans made, plans dashed, new plans crafted, sometimes hurriedly.
And once the symptoms subsided, the countdown began: final prep mode for our annual family reunion on my dad's side, aka the freedom-themed holiday of Passover, or Pesach. It starts tomorrow night and is observed not only by Jews but by people from many traditions, including those committed to social justice, with the understanding that we're called to stand up in every generation, each in our own way, to block oppression and build towards a world where every human being has what they need to thrive, and can freely walk through the world, head held high, without fear. May it be so, if not in this generation, then in a future one.
All of this is to say, this past week has been a wild ride. Luckily, a mentor's encouragement from who knows how many years ago popped into my head earlier today: Underdo it.
An inner voice began its monologue, clearly and kindly: “Underdo it, Ali. You're acutely aware that words have so much power, so you want to be thoughtful about what you share—and…a gentle reminder that time is of the essence. It's the last day of the month, dear! Just let community members know what's on the horizon, and maybe share a photo from the hidden pond you just happened upon along the Paint Branch Trail.” So I gave in, and my brow, tight and furrowed, began to relax.
In this exhausting era, what would it be like to underdo it, for a moment or longer? You might take a moment right now and just inwardly whisper these words to yourself: Underdo it. Underdo it, sweetheart, just for a moment. What happens to your jaw? Your shoulders?
Or as poet Pablo Neruda offers, “If we were not so single-minded about keeping our lives moving,” we might find that we have more access to clarity, inner stability, and direction. Paradoxically, underdoing it might help us do whatever it is we're called to do, for ourselves, for the world, with greater wisdom and freedom of spirit.
The rest of this newsletter offers:
~ upcoming opportunities to learn, reflect, connect, and cultivate: a drop-in group, course, retreat, and 1:1 sessions
~ closing wisdom from teacher Galit Toledano
