My intention for the holidays had been to reflect on the year that was and to find a sense of direction for 2010. I had imagined a time of quiet practice, a few days of lounging about to let my body recuperate from a very busy end of year, and then finding some inspiration so that I could start the New Year with a hiss and a roar.
I should have known better than to plan too much, because as you may have guessed already, that’s not quite how it all panned out.
To celebrate the completion of our children’s secondary school years, we had booked a family holiday in Noosa, on the Sunshine Coast of Australia. We did depart as planned, and arrived in a very warm, very wet, grey Noosa in the late afternoon, and settled into our accommodation.
The next morning we received a message to say that my father in law was in hospital, and that he was not likely to be going home again. He was at the tail end of a long and painful battle with cancer, and it seemed he was ready to give up the fight. After numerous conversations with family at home it was decided that we should stay and complete the holiday, and that we would be able to visit him when we arrived home.
Needless to say, the flavour of the holiday changed considerably. Instead of relaxing and forgetting about all our obligations for a few days, we were in constant contact with family, and we were bracing ourselves for what awaited us upon our return.
We did enjoy a few relaxing sunny days, saw some beautiful scenery, and swam in some lovely warm water. I also found the perfect spot for my morning practice, on the balcony of our apartment, overlooking the river. Still, the thoughts of home were never far away.
When a loved one is near death, we may reflect on our relationship with them, and if we are lucky, have a chance to connect in a meaningful way before they die. It can also make us more aware of the relationships we have with the rest of our families, and remind us once again of the transitory nature of everything. That can be a powerful motivator for resolving or letting go of personal issues, and finding some perspective about what really matters.
I am very pleased to say that my husband had the opportunity to spend some time really connecting with his dad after we came back from our holiday. Focusing on all the positive childhood memories he had of his dad was a healing process for them both. Together with his brothers and sisters, he was able to help his father to let go.
We are slowly getting back into the rhythm of our lives, after the upheaval of the last few weeks. I arrived back for my first session in front of the class for 2010 without any fresh or exciting new ideas about what we might explore. Instead, I found myself gratefully stepping back into the familiar pattern of practising and teaching yoga. Breathing in and breathing out. I am so grateful for this rhythm, because the simplicity of it grounds me, giving me the stamina and resilience to respond to life as it unfolds. I truly don’t know where I’d be without it.
My sankalpa for the year still hasn’t revealed itself to me fully, but one thing is clear: just getting on the mat can often be enough.
Namaste.
~ Lynda Miers-Henneveld.
