Traveling Alone
I have been traveling by myself in Europe for exactly 8 weeks now. If I had to describe my experience in one word, I couldn't. It's been all at once exhilarating, empowering, challenging and exhausting. I haven't written in a while for a few reasons; one being that I am typing on a tiny iPhone, but moreover, I've had a million things to say and not a clue where to begin. So I guess I'll start at the obvious point; Yoga.My yoga practice has taken on a different form lately. I'm off the mat for longer than I have been in years. My yoga now is a matter of putting into practice all of the fundamentals of grounding, centering, internal focus, presence, breath work and equanimity in order to support myself in this mind-bending, heart-melting emotional stew that I've thrown myself into. As I bounce from one place to the next, I seek to find stability. With conditions constantly changing, I seek to find the center of stillness within me. Within the comfortable din of a language that I don't understand, I draw my attention inward to better understand myself. In the moments of fatigue, frustration, and overwhelming emotion, I find myself taking deeper breaths. I am using the tools of yoga to create contentment in my life now, which is a far cry from where I was 2 or even 4 months ago.It hasn't been easy in a lot of ways. I feel odd writing this, as if I should censor myself and instead paint for you a picture of quaint cobblestone alleys lined with flower merchants and cafés, magical markets stocked with fresh fruits and vegetables, heaps of olives and dates and every variety of cheese that you can imagine. The smell of sautéed garlic, lots of local fish and meat and wine found among centuries old architecture, with views of the Mediterranean just around the next corner. And maybe these are the kinds of things you want to hear, and I certainly don't blame you, it is a beautiful picture. But even as I experience the beauty of all of these things, I am simultaneously experiencing a deep loneliness, sadness, and confusion.I considered keeping this from you, perhaps as an egoic attempt to preserve the likely unrealistic picture you may have in your head about me and my journey, but I have made a commitment to the truth. I've made a commitment to be truthful in my own life, to seek the truth in others, and as a teacher, I've made the commitment to deliver truth to my students. And the truth is that I'm struggling. I'm struggling with my shyness and my insecurities, my inabilities, my ego. Sometimes all I can do is sit down and cry. I write this not as a sob story designed to gain sympathy, but to remind myself that it's ok to feel grief and frustration and pain and tiredness. And it's ok for you to see me in these perhaps unsavory states, because they are all on the psychic and emotional spectrum of a whole human being. In this truth, I remember that we are all things at all times, and those of you who really know me, know that I embody this truth.I've had more opportunity now than I ever have had before to really be with these aspects of who I am. But I see them, and I get to know them and I try to be kind to myself about them. I get lost in the streets and explore the markets by myself. I make jokes to myself about myself. I have only myself to rely on, to blame, to be with. But even in the most frustrating, exhausting and lonesome moments, I know that I'm not alone in my struggle. Because even if we are surrounded by friends and family and familiarity, we are all just trying to navigate the intricate, sometimes unintelligible maps of our own hearts and minds. And that, my friends, is not an easy journey to take.
Love Letters
Dearest students and beloved clients of Shelter Island,I am writing you from my apartment in Mallorca, Spain. Second story, overlooking the pool and garden below, the calm waters of the Mediterranean in the distance. The sounds of the crickets are carried through my windows on the last breath of summer. Summer. I suppose I never really knew the importance of this season until I spent a summer on Shelter Island. As a Californian, I realize now that my appreciation for the season pales in comparison to the New Yorker.Never before in my yoga career have I met a group of people more in need of a fun, relaxing, yoga filled summer. A break from the city, the grind, the pressure, the hustle. What I observed though, is that just because the sun is shining and there is wind in the sails, doesn't mean that it's that easy to switch gears and soften into the season. Once a shell is hardened by the cold it becomes difficult to penetrate.Over the course of the summer, I had the opportunity to really get to know some of you. I want to, first of all, thank you for opening your hearts to me and allowing me to see your sweet and sensetive souls. I can imagine that in such a stressful, competitive, and high pressure environment, that it might be difficult to trust, accept and open up to a new person. I am touched deeply that you did trust and accept me and I thank you from the fathoms of my heart. You reminded me, in my moments of insecurity and doubt, that I had made the right choice to come to New York. You reminded me that we are all human and that we are are bound together by this experience. You reminded me in my moments of fear and anger the importance of compassion. You reminded me that even the hardest of shells hold the sweetest of contents. I saw myself in your reflection, and in that reflection, I saw the capability that we all have to open our hearts just a little bit wider.You are the reason I am where I am at this exact moment. I literally wouldn't have made it here with out you. As the days get shorter, the air a bit chillier, as the kids start school and perhaps as you try to squeeze in one last sail, may your heart still be filled with the sunshine of the summer. And remember that I am here reflecting from afar all the love you have given me, in the hopes that it might warm your heart when the weather gets cold.Love, Cheri
