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The Gifts that Keep Giving. ~ Edith Lazenby

This moment teases me into it with breath and the space it offers.

This moment blesses me by holding all of me: body, mind, heart and spirit. We call yoga mind/body exercise but I often include heart and spirit.

I find today my moments are overwrought and full of anguish. And I am finding my grief boring and tiresome. But when crying my eyes out I wasn’t feeling the tedium that sits like reruns of Law and Order.

Today my law is to thrive in any moment but so much of my life lacks order.

The plot is old. My heart keeps breaking. The love I thought I would spend my life with shifted so now I am full of the loss and loneliness of not having him within reach though honestly he is a text or phone call away.

But it’s not the same.

I sleep alone. I eat with the television. I soothe myself with the moon, rain, chocolate and coffee. And I cry often.

Yoga helps the healing. Yoga lets the sadness find me. Yoga connects me to communities of teachers and students, friends and studios. Yoga, like writing, has become one gift that none can take and is a present I keep opening as I breathe that I can cherish and give back to all my moments.

Yet, today my moments ride me more than I ride them. My awareness grows. My hope feels buried and then it rises when I least expect and I know I can make it to another day, into the next breath, over the next hurdle, through the anguish that seems unending.

My dad talked about crocodile tears when I was 15 years old. I never forgot and at the time I had no idea what he meant. I imagine today maybe they are dinosaur tears as he is 87.

Life does not get easier. We don’t feel less in time. We feel more but we also know feelings pass.

I am trying to hold the space to heal so I can teach and manage the moments that come, some raging with grief others tender with love.

I had a reader email me after reading one of my blogs that I was welcome to spend Thanksgiving at their home, though they live in Phoenix. What gifts come my way when I least expect.

Tonight with my Muse, the sorrow has settled for now. My kitties are sleeping. Tomorrow at noon, I will go to a yoga class. I can stay up late. I have chocolate covered potato chips and though this holiday I will probably be by myself, I have turkey, dressing, gravy, squash and spinach and plan on bringing out the bread machine to have hot homemade bread.

Today the anguish of my life may bore me at times and cleanse me in the process but it’s my life and though it may not seem like it at times I do love the gifts I am given and remain grateful I can cry.

In fact, the times I stop crying are the times I begin to worry.

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Editor: Bryonie Wise

Photo: elephant archive

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Edie Lazenby

Edith Lazenby’s first love is poetry. Her second is yoga. Life unrolls in ways she could have never have imagined. She loves to love and live life daringly. Leap and the net will appear is how the saying goes but they don’t tell you what to do after it disappears.

Edith lives in Baltimore with her cat, Cucumber. She works all the time, it seems, these days. Life is good. Blessings are many.