Some Saturdays are different. Today is one of those. It’s the second Christmas Eve I’m “celebrating” without what used to be my family. I’ve deliberately chosen not to take up an invitation to my best friend’s family party. I just felt like spending the day on my own, enjoying some me-time. As if it was just another Saturday. No different from any other Saturday.
Sometimes we don’t have to look for answers. The answers come looking for us. This is what happened to me the other day. I had just published my last post when Val showed up. She hardly ever leaves without leaving a thoughtful comment and this time she left something even more precious: a little nudge. The simple fact that she had commented on my post made me look up her latest ones. Which led me straight to Mooji. And this in turn led me to a beautiful quote that has been with me since.
I entered the elevator, pressed -7 and went down seven floors. It took me a while to actually descend. I could see my body go down, but I wasn’t there myself. I mean my brain, my consciousness were still up at 0. I tried again, and again, until it worked. Finally I descended, all of me. Slowly, going down to -7.
If you are a perfectionist and have attempted taking up yoga, you might have run into a road block just like I have. My original idea was, of course, to learn how to let go, how to just be in the present moment, to accept reality exactly as it is. That’s what perfectionists need to learn and what yoga promises (besides the perfect body). This is until you find out that perfectionism is also precisely what stands in the way of escaping from perfectionism through yoga.
I never had a green thumb. In fact, I never had a garden. Just houseplants. And few of them, for that matter. The maximum number of plants I ever managed to keep alive for more than a face-saving period of time, until recently, was five: a banana tree, a schefflera, a basil plant, a ficus and an orange tree, god bless them. Until last year that was.