Going, Going, Gone.


Play for special effects and 3d experience.

I had an amazing day yesterday.

Not just because it snowed and that I love that. And not because I got a chance to go into the Lululemon store and work and discover the genuine concern for one another that they have. And its also not because I got to reconnect with a very old friend, in which we were very different, but now indifferently alike. And to be at a vegan potluck where I could eat everything amongst a group of delightful strangers is also not what particularly made my day amazing, although they all certainly did attribute.

Rather, I finally can say I stepped into environments where I’m usually not always comfortable, and actually felt incredibly comfortable and alive and from that place, could hear others. I was able to approach people from a space of emptiness, void of self-doubt, judgement and insecurity and be present to exactly what the other person was communicating to me.

I stood and sat next to people and was able to look at each eye individually and see inside of them the ” inherent good in everyone” that yoga so openly speaks of. I heard her when she said she was afraid to do Landmark. I heard him when he said that he’s grasping for a way to cope with life in his current state of consciousness. I heard him when he spoke of his deep passion for music, and his desire to discover his purpose, but struggles through self-doubt and the distance he still needs to walk. I heard him when he said he’s really glad that he’s moved back home and now able to bond with his mom. I heard her when she sang her song, the pain of motherfuggin’ lovin’ him. I heard her when she said she’s busy and needs more time. I heard him, how this one man and his books completely transformed his life into who he is today.

It was an amazing day because I was present. I’m not in any way saying I was enlightened or acting differently. I just felt that I was there, alive, and the only thing that really mattered was that moment, the moment standing, or walking, or talking or not talking, listening, eating, & being. And doing just those things in the present moment allowed me to just fully be my self, fully self-expressed and to a greater extent, though with greater work, selfless. You may have said words to me, but I felt your emotion and I understood. You may have looked at me and made eye contact, but we saw each other. We may have hugged to show appreciation for being there, but my appreciation for your being happened much earlier when we showed each other who we were, intimately detached and untouched.

And now, to have written about aloneness and its pain and virtue, I was freed from its illusion. I am not alone, and never was. People were always standing at my doorstep, but I felt for safety, the need to lock the door. But from this blog, I’ve taken 108 steps towards my front steps and finally turned the key and opened the door to a life beyond my four walls and a roof. I have opened it to the fresh air of possibility and the warming fireplace of company and listening. This blog is my house in which I welcome you to see, the cobwebs in the top corner crown moulding, the dust beneath the whitened rugs, and graciously offer the grand tour of this multi-level townhouse complexity. Please sit down so I may host you with tea and cookies and leave you with the comfort of conversation.

To my dearest readers, both sporadic and frequent, you are the kindest of young man and woman who takes the elderly in hand safely across the street from where I was to where I am now. Your readership is my courage to trust living in a home with wide open doors and clear glass windows. Your comments, online and off, your yoga classes, your listening, your teaching, your guidance, your criticisms, your honest truth is my inspiration for so many of the things I’ve written, directly or indirectly to you, and from that, has taught me so much, and continually to do so. I may see you only once a month, once a week, or have never even met you, but I feel that I have connected with you so profoundly that when we do see each other, words would only surface us from this deepen place of bonding that we have reached.

I am not finished, and it has not just begin. I am simply going. That’s it and thank you most sincerely for your presence in this journey.

Advertisements

2 responses to “Going, Going, Gone.

  1. Thank you, Leo your poetic presence, lyrical words and music.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s