I decided to call this blog "tada" when I saw 'that' in Sanskrit "tada" means "upright in this moment". I also rather like the urban slang meaning of "mock fanfare in order to call attention to something remarkable" in Merriam-Webster. Cue mock fanfare ...
I've been thinking for some time about creating a place to collect my thoughts about my Yoga & Meditation practice, my Community Psychology graduate studies, my focus on trauma work, and my teaching / counseling work - and how these things come together for me in daily life/work. These things do not come together yet in a tidy pattern (perhaps they never will; rather, my practice is more like the messy side of a kindergarten sewing project these days. I say that because I feel like I have so much more to learn, and yet I have the enthusiasm of a Kindergartner!
I will admit did I used to neglect Tadasana pose in my practice. When I started teaching the pose to children and challenged them to stand like they had a mountain within them, a mountain that could not be moved (such as by bullies in school), I started to think differently about the pose. Why are we so amazed at the mountains in our world and not nearly so amazed by the mountains within us?
Recently I stated the intention that I would like to work on trusting the tools I've gained along the way in my journey, as well as remember to reach for them, instead of always telling myself that I do not know enough. I was immediately challenged by someone who said that tools are not necessary, for in her opinion all I need to do is breathe and allow things to unfold. She told me to trust myself, and I looked at her thinking that if I really trusted myself in that moment I would have told her to ask me what I meant. I would have told her not to diminish my journey with those words. For entirely too long I have believed what others said about me over my own beliefs, even what I imagined they might say. It's time that I trust my own journey, one that is grounded in practice without attachment to outcome. I'm big on setting goals and meeting them, and yet the pressure to figure out what to do with what I learn overwhelms me and saps my energy.
Recently I was in a mindfulness training given by Growing Minds in Milwaukee where we were challenged to do mindful drop-ins throughout our day. If we did not have much time, they said to start by feeling your feet. I love that. How often do I take a moment to feel my feet? I am too caught up in my head to think about my feet way down below. And yet that's where I become aware of being present.
