Attachment (awww, really? again?!?)

I have learned that if you must leave a place that you have lived in and loved and where all your yesterdays are buried deep – leave it any way except a slow way, leave it as fast as you can.  Never turn back and never believe that an hour you remember is a better hour because it is dead.  Passed years seem safe ones, vanquished ones, while the future lives in a cloud, formidable from a distance.  The cloud clears as you enter it.  I have learned this but, like everyone, I learned it late.

                                                               Beryl Markham, West With The Night

Have you heard?  I’m moving Uttara.

 Wow.  NOT an easy decision.

Our current space is absolutely beautiful; I am so attached to the windows; the view; the light.  Then again, I am NOT attached to the fact that the windows leak air and it’s cold in the Winter and hot in the Summer; that the City view also means City issues like lack of parking and noise and students getting towed.  Our big reception and seating area also mean a smaller space for the actual yoga class.

Don’t even get me started on the leaking roof. 

Time for me to make hard decisions about what really mattered to me, to the Studio, to the students; and what did not.

 Lisa Wade, who is an instructor at Uttara (and also an amazing massage therapist) decided to move her massage practice to The Sanctuary; a former church in the Old Southwest area of town.  Now, I had looked at this space before; GREAT space; but I was looking for a second location and decided it was too close to the first one -- I had no INTENTION of letting go of the Kirk Avenue space.

Why?

Good question.  But it all goes back to attachment.  I had spent so many hours trying to make that space work; issues with the City, issues with my landlords, issues with my students getting towed  – just so many things that ate up time and energy.

And then – there was the absolute beauty of it; Uttara’s birthplace; a space in which we have taught and learned and grown and bonded and laughed and cried and loved and been blessed.

It is a space in which miracles have occurred; all that history backing up in my mind and creating this connection that I thought unbreakable.

Reminds me a bit of my current separation and pending divorce; you have this massive history that truly deserves respect and recognition; but at what point do you realize that the relationship used to work – but now it does not – and it will not work with where your path is taking you.

*sigh*

It is exciting to have a new space; a bigger room, really beautiful floors, easier to get to, more direct sunlight, loads of two-hour street parking, and landlords who have been so kind and accomodating.  To re-invigorate, to re-establish; to re-invent, really. 

A big piece of my soul was so resistant; I am personally going through so much change.   “Why?” I pleaded to my inner voice, “Why NOW?”  But my inner voice was resolute; it was time to move, and this was the place.

So -- here we go – on April 30, Uttara Yoga Studio will be located at 1217 Maple Avenue in Old Southwest; right near the Walnut Street Bridge, off of S. Jefferson Street and right on the trolley line. 

We’re having an open house on Saturday, May 5 from 4:00 to 6:00 pm; I hope you’ll stop by to say hi and to help infuse our new space with the blessing of your presence.

I’ll keep you posted as we move and groove into this new cycle of being.

And if you see me around the next few weeks, could you please remind me –

“Hey, Jill, remember  – B-R-E-A-T-H-E . . . “

Shanti,

Jill

On Crying

Crying sucks. 

Though, there is a cleansing beauty to it.  To let go; to break free.  A good cry can be like a good sneeze; -- cathartic; opening.  A cry tends to last longer than a sneeze though a sneeze is more socially acceptable than a good cry.

I have had times; LONG times; months; when I would not or could not cry. 

Never sure which was more in charge, the "would" or the "could." 

Hmmm.

When I WOULD not cry, who the hell cries?  I was the steel and the stone; totally controlled.  A freakin' fortress.  But then; at some point; I realize ---

HA.

I am not; I am not the steel; I am NOT the stone.  I NEED to cry; And yet -- I cannot; steel and stone; they no longer protect me: they entomb me.

Its not that you have no compassion; that you are hard and harsh; it's just that there are inner walls and outer walls and you become an expert at building inner walls.  People in your life think that they have hit your inner limits and so you let them and -- yet -- really -- it's just the outer sanctuary of the inner life -- and you smile and you talk and there is still that fortress -- a good mile from the real inner center and excuse-me-but-i-prefer-you-stay-here-thank-you-very-much.

The tears do come; they will; it is a terrifying moment; more than a moment, a huge shift; down come the walls; even though you realize it marks progress; the interior has been breached.

Inner alarms sound: and yet -- you welcome the healing flood that you so-long feared.

My insides have been in knots; managed the whole first part of 2011 inert; remember buying the movie "Up" -- have you seen it?   First two minutes in and I am tearing in gushes, like the Nile.

Children hovering; comforting and worrying; (sweet, but the guilt flows in, too); each moment of the beginning crushes me with emotion; and then the silly-damn-movie starts and and I can get a grip.

I did get a grip -- and also recover -- recover the gift of tears.  Which visited me often: often and flowing, over the Summer of 2011.

Hiding in the shower; on the porch during storms; I received my pain.

Could once again feel -- but also suffer -- a portal had opened, and, dammit, would not close.

Tonight? Another frightening opening -- the chance for love and change brings a huge cry, big tears; trying to find my way, my space in the Universe.  Who will receive my love; who will receive my pain?

Do I scare you?  Cause I scare the HELL OUTTA me?

My biggest obstacle is -- OF COURSE -- me.

Feel what you feel; express what you you feel; be so grateful not to be "shushed" through your tears.

AUUUMM shanti,

Jill