I woke up this morning to sunshine coming in through the leaves of the old oak tree outside the windows of my room in the attic. There was something melancholy about the dappled light and the coldness of the room in this old farmhouse. Instead of getting out of bed right away I snuggled under the comforter and stayed with the feeling to see where it took me.
The cold brightness of fall feels like a signal of endings and I was reminded of how it feels to approach the end of a very good book: the simultaneous and paradoxical yearning to devour it quickly, and the never wanting it to end. My thoughts drifted to the feeling-tone of being with Dad with his decision to get a feeding-tube to prolong his life, and hence his struggle. He fought so valiantly and hopelessly against the final ending that is death. Later, in the last week of his life, I just wanted it to be over already, even if it meant ending his struggle myself.
When I feel disconnected from the people around me I find myself wondering... is this part of a natural up and down cycle inherent in human relationships? Or am I putting up walls to protect my heart? Does the feeling of loneliness mean I should try harder to be vulnerable? Or retreat into solitude for a time? Is the absence of connection a signal, slow and ambiguous like the first signs of fall, heralding the inevitable arrival or winter, and of endings?
I feel vulnerable asking these questions, but less alive if I don't allow myself to ponder them. I would love to hear from you if you've shared moments like this. Let's have a conversation about connection ... email me at firstname.lastname@example.org
If you or someone you know is interested in spending an immersive experience in the jungles of Costa Rica, check out our upcoming yoga teacher training. We have a great crew of people teaching in January and hope you can join us. Early bird rates apply through September.