Showing Up No Matter What~

I'm sitting on the couch, just home after teaching my Sunday morning class. And here I am trying to regroup and gather my shaky heart. It was hard to get up and show up and teach this morning after hearing about the 2 mass shootings that just occurred in the last 24 hours. It's not like these incidents are surprising anymore because these mass shootings are happening so often. But as I sat in the quiet  with the news of the shootings and the sadness I was feeling, I noticed there was a part of me that did not want to feel anything so that I could focus on getting ready for my class. But not matter what I did to redirect my heart and my mind, I couldn't stop or ignore the sadness. All I could do was just sit with it, acknowledge and feel it. So that's what I did. I sat, my cup of coffee in one hand and the other hand on my heart, and I let the tears and sadness wash over me. 

After a few tears, I dried my eyes. I got up and splashed my face with cool water and sat back down again to consider my theme and sequence for my morning class, but it was hard to think. And I felt torn on whether or not I should actually acknowledge, with words in class, the shootings and the fact that so many of us are grieving and grappling with fear and disappointment and disbelief. 

Should I say anything at all about this, or should I just let people climb into the bubble that is a yoga class and give the students a break from the hard truths of life right now?  It felt like a hard call. 

What do I do? How do I show up and teach anyway? What do I say or not say? 

It's a fine line we walk as teachers to create a space and place of refuge while still honoring and acknowledging the hardships and realities of life. 

There are so many things to consider when you are the one showing up to hold space and people are counting on you to do just that. I don't think people really have any idea what teaching a yoga class includes. Most people think it's just about the poses and the right sequence, and some word or quote that will do, but it's not. It's more than most people think, or at least it is to me. It's a service. I show up and serve and hope that I may offer some glint of good in the world through my presence, the atmosphere I create, welcoming community, encouraging connection, softening hearts, inviting laughter, lightening loads, being bare and honest, maintaining hope, and cultivating resilience and determination.

Sure, I could show up and run people through the paces of their practice, keep a neutral theme and environment, let them rest and send them out the door. And all the while, I could pretend that all is well and it would be fine. But would it? Wouldn't we just have to go home and process our grief alone? I don't know, maybe that's preferable? But maybe it's important to band together in times like these and help each other through our grief and anger and fear and our immense disappointment at the direction that our country appears to be heading in.

It's a lot some days, but it's not always that way. Some days it's light and playful. Basically, teaching is like everything else: a winding road with ups and downs. 

After sitting with my confusion for a while, I decided to jump online in search of direction and/or inspiration from someone else. And it worked. I asked a friend in the comment box, 'how do I show up and teach a class after such tragedy?"

And a fellow teacher,Linda Sparrowe, said, "there is no better time to teach than right now." She was right. And then she shared the perfect words with me:

"Love does not win easily or immediately. Love is a force we enter into and folks who want to join love's current must pledge their full courage, participation and selves. 


We participate today by grieving. Grieving is not passive. Grieving is a stopping. It is an active, brave surrender to pain. It is the decision to be soft. To let it in. To allow ourselves to feel it. 

Today we allow our hearts to break open, once again. We owe that to each other. 

Soon, what we've let in will transform to fuel and that fuel is what we'll burn to light up the world, once again. But this part matters. The still point. The still point is part of the process of love and love demands we honor her entire process. The pace of love is different for each, but don't skip the still point. Don't skip the sadness, the confusion, the horrible acceptance that this excruciating pain - like love- is the truth down here. It is okay to have no answers. 

Just sit for a moment and send love. Send love. Love is what is needed today. Send love to someone you're struggling with. Don't allow a single seed of hate to grow inside of you. Honor those we lost by pruning your own heart of fear of other. Send love to those within your reach well tonight. Including yourself. Please. take tender care of your broken heart tonight.

Everything beautiful in this world begins with a broken heart.

When the world is loud, we must be quiet. When the world is hard, we must be soft. When the world is evil, we must, we must, we must be good."

After reading that, my answer was clear. Share the truth. Acknowledge the loss and the despair so many of us are feeling. Take a minute to honor and remember the people who were here yesterday but that are gone today. Remember them because they matter and so do the loved ones who have lost them. 

I thought I would feel better after my class, but I don't. Don't get me wrong, my practice helped a lot and helped to anchor and balance me enough to show up and teach. And I'm sure the practice did the same for the students who attended class with me today,  but it didn't magically erase the hurt. Only time and naming and feeling can do that. 

My aim for the rest of the day is to remember to move through my day with tenderness and to just be okay with how I feel, no matter if I like it or not. Because this is what a life of practice teaches us: to hold steady, to feel fully, to embrace all of life as is. Messy, clean, dirty or pure. It doesn't matter. It's both things at once, and you hold all of it in one hand. And all we can do is navigate our way forward one step at a time and continue to tend to our vital hearts. 

I'll close with something Danielle LaPorte shared today that resonated with me and helped me stay clear on my choice and aim at this time:

THE SHANTIDEVA PRAYER

May I become at all times, both now and forever,

A protector for those without protection,

A guide for those who have lost their way, 

A ship for those with oceans to cross,

A sanctuary for those in danger,

A lamp for those in the dark,

And a servant to all those in need. 

As long as living beings exist, 

and suffering afflicts them,

May I too abide to dispel the misery of the world.

May I be a guard for those who need protection,

A guide for those on the path,

A boat, a raft, a bridge for those who wish to cross the flood.

May I be a lamp in the darkness,

A resting place for the weary,

A healing medicine for all who are sick,

A vase of plenty, a tree of miracles;

And for the boundless multitudes of living beings, 

May I bring sustenance and awakening, 

Enduring like the earth and sky

Until all beings are freed from sorrow,

And all are awakened. 

Take care of yourself and each other.

For Peace and with Love,

Marcia