Sunday, November 10, 2013

Space to Listen and Gratitude.


I went to yoga this morning.  Sometimes I take this class on Sunday because two of my friends take it regularly, and I don't get to see them enough.

So anyway, I went this morning.  There was only one person working the check-in and a line developed.  But because this was a YOGA line, and in Austin, to boot, no one got testy. We just started chatting.  I was eavesdropping on the guys talking behind me and then said something and the one guy said, "Are you eavesdropping?" and I said, "Yes, I really am.  I'm sorry.  I'm a writer and it's kind of an occupational hazard."

And then we talked writing for a bit and he said if I quoted him, I had to use the name Ron Wonderful.  Which made me laugh.

And then we went to class, and the room was overheated, which gave me a headache and reminded me why I don't go to this class EVERY Sunday.

So.

See what I did up there, though?

I introduced myself as a writer.

But the TRUTH is that I don't know if that's the case anymore. I'm not really writing much right now.

I don't introduce myself as a yoga teacher all that often either, for reasons I am not in touch with. Seriously, I need to meditate on that.  I remember how long it took me to introduce myself as a writer.  I think I already had a book out before I could do it without qualifying it in some way. Maybe after I do my 500 hour training, I'll feel legit.

(My brain...I don't understand it either.)

Really, though, I think what I am right now is a Listener.

I'm listening for what it is I'm supposed to be doing.  Am I supposed to be writing my story?  Am I supposed to be deepening my practice? I'm clearly transitioning into a very different stage as a mother.  (From Keeper of the Fingerpaints to Keeper of the Car Keys.) It's a time of huge flux, but very slow.

I'm so grateful for the space just to listen and see what's next. I'm so grateful to be at a time in my life when I'm content to let that unfold as it should --to reveal itself to me when I'm receptive and open. I'm sitting in this gratitude and I'm really patiently listening.


After class, Ron said, "Come with me.  I have something to show you." So, I went, thinking that because we'd been talking about polar dinosaurs,  he was going to show me a fossil or something. It turns out he wanted me to meet his dogs, Ruby and Lucy Lisa.

They were adorable.

When I'm in listening mode, life tends to give me Valentines like that.

6 comments:

Mokihana said...

Right on, Barb... when we learn to be more aware and to listen, we are often surprised and gladdened by what turns up.

tanita♥davis said...

...five books later, I FINALLY say the writer thing. With reservations. It's ridiculous and we do have to think of WHY we don't own all of who we are...

::sigh::

Jennie De Groot said...

I get it. The first person who called me an artist was my youngest(now favourite.lol.) son.He introduced me to his friend."This is my mom.She is an artist.What's to eat?" I gave him free reign of the treat box just for that! But why was it so hard for me to say it? I have no problem saying I am a mother, a wife, a homeowner,…they are all jobs too…but the artist thing was about my pride, too. That gave me permission to call myself artist…..but I am that and SO much more. Barb, you are a writer and a yogi and a sensitive and a mom and a wife and ……the list is endless. I love that you are so open to the universe( despite the inherent problems with that stance) but that is the way the writer in you is fed. I know you as Barb the writer and teacher because you pass on so much of your learning through your writing. So grateful!

Barb said...

Wow, Jennie, that comment...I had to go race walk around my house in joy. Thank you! Adding it to my coat of blessings.

Gary's third pottery blog said...

OH, awesome story and GREAT pics and quotes!

Michelle said...

I call you my yoga teacher!