Entry Eight

Do you ever revisit things you said, only to realize they are the same words you need now? Today’s entry found me at the correct time. I address my eagerness to move and my desire to belong to the future. But what about the foundation we are creating today? The same foundation we will eventually need to depend on. How can we tend to what is in front of us before trying to prove we belong somewhere else?

These words brought me peace, and I hope they allow you to reflect, too.

March 1st, 2022:

There will never be another March 1st 2022. Isn’t that wild? Today I lived this day and there won’t be another one. I hardly have this type of revelation. Days can fly by without any admiration that we lived to see it through. For me, this quick pace is heightened when I am desperately wanting to reach a new destination. I am wanting time to end so I can just be there already. Where is there? Somewhere better, I suppose. I want to skip steps that I have deemed valueless, and soar into a new chapter. 

Today one of my favorite yoga teachers, Randy, talked about stability and mobility. He gave poetic examples and metaphors about these terms in our bodies and how we move through life. He echoed throughout class that “we have to find stability before mobility.” This led me to consider what I am creating now, before I wish to move onto the next thing. What bricks am I laying before the next opportunity? What is my stability? Rather than wanting to run ahead, I can spend more time creating my foundation. That is the most important step. Without that, we get into situations where we continue to repeat the same actions (mobility) because we haven’t tended to the ground we walk on. 

Today I remembered that I can always strengthen my current vantage point. Have you ever recalled something you already knew, and feel like you’re hearing it for the first time? As if it is pulsing in your heart. It clicks differently. This is what happened to me today. I renewed my belief that I can choose to become more sturdy, before I scurry through my tomorrow. I can belong to this moment, right here. 

Are you currently desperate to reach a new destination? Do you realize that when you are wanting to fast forward, you are also asking to forfeit precious time? The same time that could be used to create your stability. To not escape your current circumstance. I think it is brave when we can hold a greater vision, while claiming that right now, we too can have joy. We can find ease and warmth because we are here now. So many times I have held my breath believing that when I reach a certain milestone, then I can lavish in my surroundings. But actually, when I get to where I wanted to be, I am only left trying to catch my breath. Trying to recover with the fresh air I was hoarding because I was scared to “waste” it on my prior chapter. A chapter I didn’t think was worthy of pouring into.

I was wrong. Anytime I have done this, I have been wrong. I still catch myself doing it today. Depriving myself of living fully until I receive what my ego thinks will satisfy me. When I do this, I am simply whispering to my inner child “you aren’t good enough, yet.” I am continuing to tell her that she must continue rehearsing, until it is perfect. This is a lie that I no longer want to hold as truth.

My former self used to hoard my love, too. I could speak on this for a lifetime. I treated my decision to give and receive from someone else as though it were a life sentence. I didn’t realize that it could also be a new beginning, with boundless choices. The saddest part of all, is that I used to hoard love from myself, too. Relentlessly waiting. Incessantly practicing. Mercilessly perfecting my mobility, without slowing down to consider the love I needed to remain stable regardless of what step I took. 

Today I remember that my stability is not contingent on the outcome. It is formed based on who I choose to be along the way. It becomes powerful when I pause and observe my steps. It is nourished when I stop to smell the existing flowers, even when I am still planting seeds.

Repeat after me. I do not need to make it across the finish line, before my next exhale. My life has meaning, and I belong here now. If you like what you’re reading, share your reflection at the hotline below.

Better Call Salwa: 347-903-7057

In the meantime, what can you be present for today?