“Hope and Stillness. Hope and Stillness for three full breaths.” That is what I heard my yoga teacher say this morning. And that phrase felt so natural to my heart – it took a couple seconds for my brain to register what was actually said… “Hold in stillness. Hold in stillness for three full breaths.”
We were in downward facing dog, so I supposed hold in stillness made a lot more sense than what my ears heard.
Honestly, though, I’m not sure. I think I was supposed to hear Hope And Stillness. It sounded like a directive for me, personally. The self-critical voices in my head have been rather cruel lately. They have been trying to convince me that I’m not actually doing a good job in this job of “being a person” and all that entails. Those mean voices who list all my faults were at it again – which is why, although I had a list a mile long of things that needed doing, I found myself in downward facing dog.
Beyond that, beyond my own unfriendly inner voice harping at me, it seems, of late, I have numerous friends and loved ones going through incredibly challenging “seasons of life” as my dear friend Krista calls them. Any given conversation includes words like leukemia, hospice, divorce, depression, fear. And more. It’s been intense in my world – and in everyone else’s it seems. When I heard my yoga teacher call for “Hope and Stillness” it sounded like a prescription, like a recipe for stepping forward. It sounded like just the thing my world needed to hear.
What a perfect recipe it is – hope – the inner knowing that it is going to work out and be beautiful. Stillness – that gorgeous gift that comes when we slow down enough to let it in. The magic that happens when we allow space for both.
I’ll take what I heard. I’m glad my ears tricked me – I think it was my purpose for being in class today. I left whole lot lighter than I was when I walked in.