The Art of Homecoming

The Art of Homecoming

A wise woman once told me that she fell in and out of love with her husband many times over the course of their 50 plus years of marriage.  I believe that this statement not only holds true for marriages or relationships with people, but it is also true for anything we are in a long-term relationship with.  Lately I have been noticing a similar trend in my relationship with Yoga.  After two decades of practice, I have felt closer to, and farther away from my practice hundreds, if not thousands of times.  Similar to marriage, the word Yoga itself means “to yoke,” or union.  I feel the rich and beautiful current of yoga in my life all the time.  However, as a “householder”, or someone who is living life with a family and job in this modern era, long-term practice can be likened to the swing of a pendulum.  Sometimes I am actively engaged in daily practice with discipline and consistency.  Other times it is challenging to find time for practice in the busy day between parenting and work, and I hold the practice in my heart.   

Until recent years, the times when I was unable to do the physical practices or set aside time for meditation, I would feel guilty for having abandoned my practice.  Not doing “what is good for me” brought feelings of shame and confusion as I felt the physical discomforts that came without the postural practice.  In addition, I noticed the disturbances of my nervous system’s stress response in the absence of meditation practice.  However, lately I have been exploring the swing of the pendulum from a different perspective.

Inspired by the writing of Miribai Starr in her book Wild Mercy, I am recognizing the value, importance, and beauty of the occasional shift away from practice.  The times when I am farthest away from practice, I am recognizing the experience of longing.  My love for Yoga is sustaining and deep, as is my love for the inner peace that I feel when I am in tune with my inner Self.  When I am away from my practice for periods of time, the experience of longing is the pure expression of longing for union and connection.  There is incredible beauty in the desire to be one with the divine, even though that desire sometimes brings with it states of emotion that may be uncomfortable.

Another benefit of “leaving home” is the opportunity to come back, and to delight in the feeling of coming closer to a state of center or union.  There are countless ways to experience this homecoming.  It can be as simple as noticing the breath, as each breath is a cycle of leaving and returning.  Each time we come to the mat or meditation cushion is its own homecoming.  Sometimes the process can feel like waking up – the aspect of ourselves that is present and aware through the multitude of roles that we play in our daily lives can spontaneously make itself known as a witness, and we experience the present moment through senses with vibrancy. 

In my teaching, this summer has been a sabbatical of sorts as I navigated the world of website building and marketing.  Though I was challenged by self-created deadlines and hours at the computer, I am now delighting in my return to practice.  I would sneak in a hamstring stretch while brushing my teeth at night (by putting a leg up on the counter…doesn’t everyone do that?), knowing that my practice will be there for me when I am ready.  Personally, having a break from a more intensive teaching schedule has allowed me to focus and hone in on the necessities of family and business life, and my relationship to practice has benefited. 

So, what is it like to come back home?  First, I notice that I have strayed from center.  Second, I allow myself to experience the longing for union with the deepest part of myself.  Third, I feel the grace of the natural pull toward union, and witness the process with awe and delight.  And most importantly, I feel grateful for this dance, the swing of the pendulum, and the opportunity to experience the richness of a life full of love. 

Please visit my new website, which I happily completed in July!  I look forward to a new teaching schedule starting this September.

Namaste,

Abby

Abigail Hatfield