There’s something 100% magical about a windy, windy afternoon in Reno. Never being quite sure if my tires are grounded, or if I’m floating away in the gusts. Having the time, to let my mind meander, away from the problematic and precarious parabolas. Settling deep into the brisk toes, the compare and contrasts, the early nights, the warm food, the acrobatic afternoons, and the coffee.

With the gusts comes a forced release. Unable to grasp at whatever it is that still lingers. Surrendering into the serenity that comes with acceptance. Acceptance of the attributes that haunt my awareness: the contrast, the insecurities, the homely, the longing, the achy bones, the depths.

A reality filled with florescent lights or maybe warm rooms of awareness. The wind shows me my incapability to bridge worlds. To find a medium in which this beautiful, humbling practice and this incredibly beautiful, humbling education can dance.  My bike rides serve as a gap, just long enough, to separate my two worlds. A time in space spanning the perfect amount of time, to transition from my duty to my community.

Today I discover my bridge is gratitude. Gratitude for my bones, for my breath, for my teaching, for my brain, for my movement through this life, for my incapacity to be anywhere but here.

It seems that is the only way to move through our lives, without judgment or indifference. With only gratitude for wherever it is we happen to be, with an awareness of the synchronicities, with an acceptance for the needed bridges. Find your wool socks, come to your practice, walk in the breeze, get upside down, sing to you inspiration, bake things you maybe shouldn’t eat, and laugh, laugh at yourself.

Happy Fall Lovelies