I am excited to share a poem that inspires me and helps me show more compassion toward others. I have lots of poems I share in yoga classes and, every now and then, one sparks so many good things that I like to share them with a larger audience. I read this poem in class last week and students loved it! I saw them smiling and talking about it in the lobby. Whoa, it must be good if so many people got talking about it!
 
And then there is this... I have been growing increasingly saddened by the number of people and circumstances in and around my life in the midst of repeating destructive cycles. In the first few episodes of Battestar Galactica (in case you didn't know, I totally dig sci-fi) we learn the destruction of the human race has been repeating for thousands of cycles and yet, despite clear warnings, nobody has come to terms with it enough to put an end to the cycle. Okay, so the end of the human race is dramatic, but on a smaller level we continue to harm our own lives, the lives of others, and the life of Mother Earth because we do not put an end to cycles. People continue to diet despite what is now known as fact that diets do not work and only lead to harm. People continue to train through pain even though science proves time and again that this yields long-term conequences that could have been prevented through short-term behavior change. And then there's the oil spill, and the way we treat family members, and on and on and on.
 
Phew! Can you see why I have been growing increasingly saddened? Fortunately, a favorite poem came to the rescue. This poem reminds me that life includes many chapters, and softens my hard edges when it comes to showing patience for others going through the cycles of life. It helps me trust, believe, and hope. I am eager to know what you think of this poem. Does it speak to you, too?
 
Life in Five Short Chapters
By Portia Nelson

CHAPTER 1
I walk down the street.
There's a deep hole in the sidewalk.
And I fall in.
I am lost. I am helpless. It isn't my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.

CHAPTER 2
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don't see it. I fall in again.
I can't believe I am in the same place.
But it isn't my fault.
It takes a long time to get out.

CHAPTER 3
I walk down the same street and there is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it there, and still I fall in.
It's a habit.
But my eyes are open and I know where I am.
It is my fault and I get out immediately.

CHAPTER 4
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.

CHAPTER 5
I walk down a different street.

 

 

This blog stems from a question I often get asked about how I deal with family members who don't practice yoga. The thing is, I don't deal with anything. Yoga is my path, but I have no expectation it will be other peoples' paths. I chose yoga for my sanity, but as long as people in my life have something to bring them wholeness and health, I am happy for them. Whether I agree or disagree with their choices is irrelevant. I dig diversity and am open to learning about different customs and beliefs. Which brings me to the point of all this, which is to say it is the non-yogis in my life who often teach me the most. They push me to dig deeper into my own beliefs and offer me glorious insights based on theirs. They challenge my thinking and help me make smarter choices by offering different perspectives. When we do disagree, I get the precious gift of observing my tendencies and practicing how to be an adult rather than throwing a temper tantrum. The last part is an ongoing practice, but I've come a long way!

 

Case in point... When with my parents, I am not a yoga teacher, I am a daughter. I share my skills, they share their skills, and we learn from each other. I am a better person and a better daughter because of yoga, but I don't need my parents to step on the path of yoga in order for us to be a happy family. My parents found their path long ago; I honor and respect that. Sure, we have gone through our tough and unpretty times, but there comes a time to let go of past stuff and get on with being a family. There come a point when we realize we don't need to change each other to love each other. There comes a precious, and often painful, moment of realizing that loving people means letting them live their own lives. That moment of letting go is the precise moment when love is truly expressed. For me, that moment is now. Yoga is the reason I am a proud member of a happy family. My family never needed to change, I needed to change, and yoga is the means by which I changed. I have come into contact with gifted and world renowed yoga teacher. However, after years of flying the coop and spreading my wings, I look back and clearly see my parents have been two of my greatest teachers all along. But the truth remains that I am the only yogi in the family. My parents take yoga classes at their congregation and love coming to my classes when they are in town, but yoga is not their path, and it doesn't need to be. Yoga is my way, not the highway we all need to ride on.

 

What I hope you realize is that the people in your life are incredible teachers. Step back and accept people as they are and suddenly the lessons pour in. The whole notion of everybody needing to do yoga is, to me, opposite of the whole point of yoga. Yoga is about honoring things as they are and finding linkages and connections within all kinds of systems and relationships. It is about bursting through the walls of separation and coming to understand, no matter what language we speak or who we or do not pray to, we are all made of the same goodness and light. And yet we complicate this simple truth by expecting others to find goodness and light in a certain way. What if, instead, we accepted there are many roads that result in a good life? I like that vision of the world, one where we can all get along because the walls have been taken down.

 

Why did I choose the photos, above? They were taken during a family vacation in Greece. On the left, behind me, by my foot, is my dad. I am doing my thing. He is doing his. Not only were we are all getting along just fine, but after a few minutes my dad joined me on the rock to play. Bye-bye separation, hello connection!