Monday, February 06, 2012
Over the past week or so I've been thinking about the lives of blogs and the people behind the words, the voice.
It's been a while since I've dug back through my blog but if I did, (after initially being horrified by some of things I'd written) I could probably see what "stage" I was in. A dreaming stage, a "life is really freakin' great" stage, a sorrow stage,etc.
In his brilliance Rumi shares:
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
Last night someone questioned the authenticity of a blogger (Kimberly Wilson) that I've read for years. There is much one can debate within this but what I'm thinking about in the moment is the many facets of a being. And how when you blog, when you run a very public business, how is that interpreted.
I've always made an attempt to portray myself honestly here, writing both about the good and the bad on and off the yoga mat.
Nearly a year ago I wrote about "the things you don't see" when I had the flu.
I wrote about the "moment I freaked out."
I wrote here when my world was crashing down around me when my Mom was diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer.
And most recently on death of my sweet beloved baby dog Bella (who was a 13 year old baby).
I've written about how yoga has never come naturally to me. I've written about how I don't perfectly fit the mold as either a business owner or a yoga teacher. I've written about my love of beer and the use of a few four lettered words to flavor that which I speak of.
Even yesterday I departed the Outer Banks of NC early in the morn. I was feeling like a million bucks. Giddy, excited about all that was to come. Soon the rain came and I didn't get that last rendezvous with the ocean. Instead I ran and flung my things into my car, cold from the wet rain. An hour or so later the exit I needed to take to get me to the interstate was closed. I spent 45 minutes driving in circles. Totally maddening. I got into a huge fight with Andy when he didn't respond the way I wanted him too. Shortly after finding my way out of the mess of being lost I received information that totally shook me.
It. Was. Not. Pretty.
To put it mildly, it was not a happy journey home. I was mad, and sad, and feeling lost (literally and figuratively speaking).
Then I remind myself of more Rumi (this is why it's good to memorize stuff that saves you ;)
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
I take a few breaths. Sit taller. Make a few sounds. Then ultimately remind myself of what is the truth for me.
Part of that is that it's all needed. The shitty, the sunshine, the magic, the malice, the dark and the light.
Being authentic, being wholehearted are two things I really value.
Dear Friends please promise to call me out if you see or feel otherwise. I only ask that you do it kindly. And in a private message. ;)
*I snapped this photo a while back while nestled in my bed. It was striking the way the light found it's way through, even with the smallest of openings.*
Posted by Sharon Tessandori at 12:07 PM