This blog has been like a yogi's rendition of Silent Night lately. Yes, it's true, I've been spending my time enjoying the holiday season rather than sitting at my computer blogging. I've missed you, yet I can't say that I haven't been enjoying soaking up every moment of the holiday season. There's been a lot of laughter, fun adventures, moments of pure gratitude and joy, some sadness, and a whole lot of appreciation for this magical thing called life.
Connection Makes Everything Better
The one ingredient that I think it all comes down to is this -- connection. Connection just makes everything better. By connection I mean connection to self and connection to others. Isn't connection truly at the core of what we're desiring? Not too long ago, someone asked me about my humble beginnings with yoga. Did I start because I wanted to get in shape or start being more mindful or try something new or increase my flexibility? Sure, those things would have been nice side benefits, but the real reason I started (and still continue to practice) was connection. I was hungry for it.
I suppose this is why our culture is so very preoccupied (or would it be more appropriate to say enamored?) with romantic love. Ah yes -- there's nothing like connecting with another, yes? The gazing into each other's eyes, the genuine interest in what the other person is saying, the chemistry, the physical attraction, the flirting, the getting to know each other, the finding common ground and solidarity with another, the blush (and enchanting chemical soup) of new love. Mmmmhmmmmm...it sure is special, to that I can attest.
Connection Not Guaranteed
There's another side to it that no one likes to talk about though -- connection isn't always guaranteed in relationship (I can personally attest to this as well). It's easy to become complacent, take people for granted, forget that joy of -- and the feelings associated with -- the blush of new love. Connection can give way to disconnection rather quickly. Connection is a living, breathing thing, not a static thing that's guaranteed. A couple must foster it, nurture it, help it to grow in depth and breadth.
I started with yoga with a burning desire for connection. I had a lot of erroneous beliefs about connection only being found in romantic relationships. Somehow I had forgotten that connection can be found in so many -- and often unexpected -- places. Slowly, my time on the mat gave me the key: presence. At first I didn't quite realize what it was that made my time on the mat so wonderful. Of course there were times I showed up distracted, my mind wandering, separate and apart from my body and my breath. Yet there were those times when I had an "amazing" practice. Eventually, I figured out that amazing equated to being present.
Ask Yourself:
When was the last time you felt every movement of your body, every inhale and exhale of your yoga practice as opposed to moving from muscle memory?
When was the last time you looked at your romantic partner as if seeing him/her for the first time and taking a genuine interest (with real curiosity) in what he/she says?
When was the last time you commuted to work and actually noticed the landscape?
When was the last time you ate a meal noticing the scents, flavors, sounds, tactile experiences?
When was the last time you looked someone directly in the eye when asking, "How are you?," and paused while waiting for the answer while at the same time being intensely curious about the response?
The Richness of Presence
There's the difference between absence and presence. What I've noticed in my own life is that life is more rich, more vivid, more exciting when there's presence. Earlier this week a dear friend and I enjoyed a holiday high tea together. I savored every minute of that experience. It was full sensory for me. I can still tell you how the sandwiches tasted, how the fine china looked, how the seat felt underneath me, how the sun shown through the window, how it felt to be having a fabulous conversation with one of my favorite people. I was fully present in the moment.
Presence Eases Loss
A teacher once told me that when you were going through a loss (losing a job or a loved one or a relationship or a circumstance), you should go on an appreciation rampage and soak in everything you loved about the thing/person/circumstance. The common belief would be that you shouldn't get excited about something that's ending, for it'll be more painful when it goes away. I've tested this myself, and I can tell you that's not true. Appreciating the hell out of something/someone and soaking in all of the goodness of it enables you to let go from a place of love, which is so much easier than a place of fear.
Again, it comes back to presence. And what better time to talk about it than Christmas. I've always said that it's more important to give and receive presence rather than presents. Yeah, it's a funny play on words and it's used often during the holidays. Just because it sounds trite, doesn't mean you should disregard it. It's simple because it's powerful.
The choice is yours -- are you going to live a life of presence or absence?
Getting Back to Presence
Like I said, it's a living thing, so you're going to have those moments when you're absent and totally checked out. The good news is that you can always come back.
- Engage your senses.
- Feel the moment.
- Notice what you appreciate.
- Feel your breath.
- Be intensely curious about something/someone/yourself/your body.
- Feel from your heart rather than think with your head.
It's as simple as that to go from absence to presence.
Presence Rather Than Presents This Holiday
I wish you a holiday season (and a New Year) filled with presence and connection. Be present with yourself, with life, with others and notice how your existence morphs into something magical. Be present with "the bad stuff," too. Right now I'm witnessing some rough stuff -- someone I know is dying, another is going through a rough time, another is struggling in her relationship. It's the duality of life -- neither all good nor all bad. That's what makes it all human. To make it divine, you only need presence.
So, my faithful readers, go forth and be present. And here's a little song for you:
Yes, I want you to be able to say, "I lived." That's the best present you'll ever give or receive.
Namaste!
