June 25, 2013

Sneaking Up on It

There is an old adage:
Q: How does one eat an elephant? A: One bite at a time.
It's something I've used in the past - my "major life project", which takes those with money, privilege, resources a year or two, took me the better part of a decade. It was almost too difficult to look it in the eye, to openly set it as a goal way back when, because it seemed so out of reach financially, logistically. And yet, I started nibbling at the edges, working on the things I could with the time and resources I had. It took 7 or 8 years, but the result was a gender transition that was more organic, less affected, with a lot less struggle and drama than most such journeys.  And when fortune smiled on me with a once in a lifetime opportunity, I was ready to go.

Today, Fed Ex ground dropped off a large box. Inside, 10 yoga blankets, purple and red. Yoga Direct does not really have the highest quality products, but the price is right and there was a 30% off sale.

And as I was opening the box, inspecting the blankets, shaking out the lint and refolding them, it struck me - I might just be doing it again. I realized that I've got the makings of a small yoga studio: blankets, blocks, straps, mats, tennis balls.

I've picked these things up over the years for various reasons. My first "free" classes at my old office precipitated the mat purchase. Teaching adult ed yoga drove me to invest in blocks and straps. I picked up tennis balls as a low cost alternative to Jill Miller's Yoga Tune-up balls.

And I bring the props as I travel - leading an early morning gentle practice at the Falcon Ridge Folk Festival, leading two classes a day at GLBT summer camp for adults, Camp Camp.

One of the benefits of a mindful life, of the physical and spiritual practice, and of having more than a few miles on the odometer, is that I begin to notice the patterns, to sense the winds of change in the moment rather than in the rear view mirror.

Not saying I'm opening a studio, that this is a concrete goal or even a dream that I am working towards. And yet, I'm  conscious of pieces falling into place, of a subtle shift in the winds. I'm aware of me, sneaking up on something.

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