You are the Sky

“You are the sky. Everything else – it’s just the weather.”

-Pema Chodron

I love this quote. And I love Pema Chodron. She represents a way of thinking and existing that I see as so whole and real. She so fully accepts the change that flies at her and the transitions that go hand in hand with life. Though I am working every day to let it go, I’ve historically been a bit of an over thinker. I’ve spent ages churning things over in my head, trying to find new angles, possible flaws and exceptions, or the occasional out. I am fascinated by how logic and self awareness work in a situation. And over the past year I’ve finally grasped that they usually...just... don’t. I’m a slow learner.

Some transitions create angst that is poignant enough to render one tossing and turning all night. I’ve been there, that unwelcome position where morning brings the relief that you’re no longer entirely alone with your own thoughts; only to dump you into the shambles of living in the undesirable place you mulled over all night. The hand that’s dealt can bring pain and change that even the light of day can’t soothe. Change is both inevitable and temporary, and no sooner do you get used to a new way of life before you have to steel yourself to prepare for the next shift.

However, I believe sleep to be the great equalizer. For me, if I am hungry, cold, or tired then you should just leave me alone. Especially if I’m, well, …any of them. You’ve been warned. Despite the occasional nights where you find yourself staring at the ceiling, most mornings do bring a fresh and bright perspective. They allow a new net to be cast over what is urgent, what is cause for optimism, and what you should have never started to fret over in the first place. When I mention that last one I am definitely referring to the way MSU basketball losses used to keep me up at night. Funny cause it’s true? True fan, brah?

The transitions that a new morning, or any life change, create are an opportunity for renewed joy. Don’t get me wrong, it's still hard as all hell. This is a topic that will undoubtedly be revisited and delved into far more than this mere gloss over, but I am currently working to dust off the writing cobwebs in my brain. But how can you choose to be an optimist and harness the opportunity in your new chapter? How can you realize that you can be as steadfast as the sky while everything else swirls around you? Because sure as the weather, the next moment of change is inevitable. I’ll avoid going into some manifesto about yoga…for now.

Someone told me once that people remained in situations for too long because they failed to press the refresh button. It's so easy to be lulled into the comfort of a known entity and to overlook red flags. We cling to the familiar, even if it clearly no longer fits us. Stop focusing on what was and start focusing on what will be. During upheavel and transition, where can you still find a comforting joy in the small moments of familiarity? Moments that will hopefully soon become more frequent. I know that all I’ve wanted to see over the past three weeks in San Francisco is a friendly face, even if that void has started to be filled by the man who serves me the grilled cheeses that I seriously need to stop buying for lunch. However, one of the reasons I’ve not stopped is that every time I go in there he’s so kind to me, chats with me, and even brings me my sandwich, rather than calling my name to the counter.

Transitions are messy, grueling, and sometimes just plain miserable. It can be immensely hard to not burrow down into the sand and lose sight of why you set off in the first place. Plus, often that initial goal we hope to achieve isn't one that's short term and when your boat is rocking amidst the waves, it can be hard to keep sight of the lighthouse beckoning you in. But the opportunities to see something different, meet someone unlike you, or learn a new skill are beautiful. So let’s be nothing but grateful for the familiar, excited about the unknown, and also remember that when it’s time for that next inevitable transition, walk into it with open arms, keep your head up, and know that your grilled cheese moments will become more and more frequent.