"Becoming more clearly ourselves"

Before I started meditation, I had this common misconception:

Some people think that meditation is nothing but sitting around feeling blissful, like a latter-day Buddha with a big enlightened smile.  But it’s not like that.  Meditation means opening yourself to the truth.  And sometimes the truth hurts. 

                                                  -Meditation as Medicine

Practicing yoga and meditation is changing me. 

It is changing me like being a French teacher in a middle school changed me. Once I faced 20 seventh-graders and convinced them that they should spend precious minutes of their day practicing a foreign language, I felt different, more certain of myself.  Before that first day of teaching, though, I only had education, hope, and the anxious brew of the unexpected.

Yoga is also changing me the way having my own children changed me – over a long series of years, where my ego eroded gradually until I was just a mother.  Then I only added back in the best parts of my old self, and all the rest was new and better, less selfish, but still aware of my needs. 

In other words, yoga is eroding my thought body, hopefully until I am just a spirit wearing a radiant suit.

This rebirth has not been and will not be easy.  

I have had the great pleasure of participating in a writing workshop over the last couple of months.  One of my sister wordsmiths said: 

The call to unravel is daunting. It requires courage to show the sacred spaces within myself so they can be understood. It requires patience and gentleness to move the memories, the experiences, the beliefs that cry out from my place of shame into a space of healing. It requires strength to give up my urge to run and instead choose to be present in life, to be present in my own healing, in my rebuilding.  -Channing Parker

I whole-heartedly agree.

There are certain times in a person’s life when events merge to form the very center of an hourglass, through which just a few grains of sand pass at a time.  There is only the present. Looking back, a person can see how the time before this moment mentally prepared her to handle it.  She can also see that she will never be the woman she was before that intersection point when things will be dramatically flipped.

I have been hanging onto a question that the teacher posed in one of my first kundalini yoga classes, "Who will you be without that story?"

What a freeing concept.  In the moments that I can "be" without my old stories, I am kicking over that dang hourglass and I am infinite.

"We did not change as we grew older; we just became more clearly ourselves."  -Lynn Hall


  1. Beautiful! What an amazing image of the hourglass. I'll be thinking on that one for a long time I can tell. I also love the image of motherhood eroding our ego in the same way yoga can. Great question too--especially considering you've literally just finished writing your story and perhaps 'released' it.' I'm so proud of you! I can't wait for you to start writing fiction.

    1. Thank you, Brook! I knew you'd like the hourglass image. The possibilities are exciting when you can create your own world.

  2. This is a concept I've been struggling with for a few years now. Figuring out how to be who I was, and who I am, and who I want to be, all at the same time. Or, whether I should just scrap the whole thing and start over. It's a paradox in a lot of ways. And figuring it out is tough.


I would love to hear what you think!