The Trouble Is, You Think You Have Time (or How I Have Come To Live My Dream)

This pandemic has reminded me regularly of the quote attributed to the Buddha, "The trouble is, you think you have time." I don't know about you, but I am always coming up with ideas for later. There are things I will work on when I have time, places I will go, projects I will work on, and ways I will be better able to show up for the people in my life. Do you do this too?

During the pandemic, the loss, fear of loss, and reality of just how much is unknown has very clearly prioritized how I look at my time.  It is the reason I now have a regular date with my 6 year old niece each week, why I have changed my live teaching schedule, and why I've carved out time for a dream that is so precious, I've hardly shared it. 

For as long as I can remember I have loved reading and writing. My mom, who started reading when she was 3 years old, was brought into the first grade class as a 4 year old kindergartener to read their books to them. She feels this wasn't socially helpful, but it does help to fill in the background for the image of our deep and well rooted love for books. When I was little we would roll to the library with a wagon, and roll back with piles of books every week. 

As I got older and could write, I began writing. I journaled, took notes, and  wrote down insights that came to me in my sleep, while out walking or (or eventually) driving. I became a collector of words and ideas and it's never stopped. At 45, you can imagine that I have a lot of notes on an array of subjects all kept in about 1,000 notebooks and binders (and many folders in the notes on my phone in case I can't get to a notebook in time). 

3 semesters into college, I had to declare a major. I had taken all of the pre-requisites in hopes that by the time I had to decide, I would have found my purpose. I had not and, when pushed, I suggested English to my parents. They asked if I wanted to be a teacher. Ironically now (as a teacher), the idea of standing up and talking to people was so terrifying that instead, I pursued the one thing I did know. I dropped out of college, bought a 1971 VW van, and drove cross country in search of  an inner knowing, which I eventually found. This began the long journey of little decisions based on that inner compass. It has led me to become a teacher, own a Yoga studio, and take tons (possibly a literal calculation of weight?) of notes on somatic and spiritual practices. 

Being self employed (which is now much more glamorously described as being an "entrepreneur") means that I have made my own schedule since 2007. It also means, to quote a friend, "that I am self-over-employed." That old adage about if you love what you do, you'll never work a day in your life makes me laugh all of the time. The truth is, that I love my work. It's purposeful, creative, and allows me to offer the space for people to get into their own bodies and to feel and heal. I can't imagine a more rewarding or purposeful job that uses everything I am, causes me to stretch beyond my comfort zone daily, grow as a human, and share all of the tools that have been shared with me on my search. 

About 6 months ago, I was looking at my schedule and saw how, if I made one small change, I would have room to work on the projects I was never getting to and gave me 2 days a week where I didn't have to go anywhere first thing (morning mind is my best mind).

In this new space (in addition to having more time for studio details) I've been able to finish up the manuals for the 300 hour Aligned Flow® teacher training, create structure for online courses, and offer the Community Sitting Project which not only brings people together to practice sitting meditation, but supports a worthy cause each time.  Instead of adding more scribbled lines to notebooks, I am opening them to use as references and content. 

Dreams are funny. What might be a dream to someone might very well be someone else's nightmare. In telling my dear friend, I had spent 12 hours writing, he said, "I'm so sorry..."  but I have quite happily spent 8-12 hours sitting and writing at a time several times, and it is dreamy to have this time.  My only obstacle has been an overstretched muscle (from sitting cross legged for too long). Update from Sukhasana:  12 hours is too long for my body in this pose. I officially have a sitting injury. 

I am beginning to scratch the surface which makes me feel like there's a chance my life won't end with boxes and boxes of scrawled notes that no one knows what to do with.  I don't know where this will lead, but I feel in alignment with my inner knowing and that is a guide I will follow until the end.