Each day this month is a reminder of what was happening a year ago last April-the phone call, the airline reservations, seeing him, the nurses, the doctors, the decision, hospice and then the good-bye.
My Dad died last April. It’s a tender time for me on the year anniversary of his death. I have been reflecting on my Dad’s passing and find that my message is actually quite simple this month.
You see I am deeply grateful for what meditation and yoga has taught me over the years. What I’ve learned in the quiet of these practices taught me how to BE with my dad as he was dying.
I will be forever grateful for that time.
In the year since his passing, my meditation cushion and yoga mat were the places I could let my heart break and also rest in the mystery of life.
As I reflect over this year, I am reminded that yoga and meditation are not just postures and practices that we do to get to a certain place, but rather practices that support us through the journey of our entire life.
In my own journey this month I am again reminded of my intention that the Beverly Yoga Center is a place that honors the tenderness and sacredness of our inner life.
This is a quote I read several times today on the anniversary of my dad’s passing by one of my favorite author’s, Pema Chodron.
“When things fall apart and we can’t get the pieces back together, when we lose something dear to us, when the whole thing is just not working and we don’t know what to do, this is the time when the natural warmth of tenderness, the warmth of empathy and kindness, are just waiting to be uncovered, just waiting to be embraced. This is our chance to come out of our self-protecting bubble and to realize that we are never alone. This is our chance to finally understand that wherever we go, everyone we meet is essentially just like us. Our own suffering, if we turn toward it, can open us to a loving relationship with the world.”
