I am so thankful for my work. I am in awe of the process that inevitably unfolds when people come together to journey to the heart. The month of May I was in Bali with a group of people from all corners of the globe: Poland, Ontario, BC, Australia, Banff. They came to work, they came to learn. My man looked over my schedule before we started and said “Babe, that’s crazy, they can’t handle that.” Turns out they could and they excelled. A few members were a little shaky at first, perhaps a little turned off by the intensity level. After week one, each member started to step up. Some physically, some mentally, some heartily? My biggest learning thus far, and what I must always remember is that everything is a cry for love. All of it. The neediness, the tears, the handstand, the jokes, the stories. All of us do something, praying to god someone will notice and love us for it. Some of us are funny, some needy, some hardworking. What do you do for love?
Things end; relationships, lives, jobs, "This is Us" (It will guys, the good ones always do). How then do we carry on loving and living, knowing that just around the corner could be some pain? The yogis' talk about the human condition of perpetual suffering, Dukkha. Naturally the human mind fantasizes about the future, (a vacation, a new love, marriage, a job, a home) or dwells in the past (why me, poor me, my parents, bad past relationships). Both of these ways of the brain are painful because they keep us from being in this moment/reality. Some folks may object that dreaming of the future is a good thing because it is anticipation and preparation. The problem is, when you anticipate the future you a) have expectations and b)the likelihood of dropping that tendency of future thinking when on vacation is nearly impossible. The only cure, awareness of the way you think/plan/live and a desire to be free.
I'm motivated to write this post because I signed my...
My 5 year old son and I were out for dinner and our server was a beautiful girl names Sarah. He leaned over and said "mom, I think I'm in love with Sarah." At the end of dinner he asked if she would like to be his girlfriend. This struck me. My son is not afraid of rejection, yet. He shares himself unaplogetically. He believes in love at first sight. He didn't care about her answer he just wanted her to know tha she was perfect to him. What happened to all of us? Why are we so scared of rejection or looking like a fool. Today tell a stranger they look beautiful or that you love their smile. Sprinkle kindness like snowfalkes on a powder day.
This practice when stripped of all it's Western flourishes such as music, essential oils and eye pillows is all about solitude. The ability to go inwards and see what lies on the periphery of our consciousness. GAH! Why would anyone ever want to do that? Because when we do, we see how much of our choices are driven by fear. How much of our lives we play it safe and cling to the illusion of security. To go into the psyche and slay our dragons (small self) allows us to emerge more clear, more present, more driven by passion.
One of my first memories is falling on cement and scraping my knee. I recall my dad picking me up, taking me inside and getting to work on my injury. He told me not to worry because he was a doctor (two years later when I found out he wasn't a doctor I was pretty upset). He took out the shaving cream and put it all over my leg. He then wiped the shaving cream off and put 20 bandaids on and around my wound. Afterwards he gave me a big cup of Apple J and said "you should feel better in the morning".
Did he put on a bit of a performance? Maybe.
Was it over the top? Yes.
Did it make me feel better? Heck yes.
Vinny had three options in the scenario. He could have said "Suck it up butter cup", He could have cleaned the wound and put one bandaid on it (like most parents would have done), or he could have done what he did, take an unfortunate event and make it memorable and up lifting.
My dad Cal Hicks, Vinny Boberino, or skciH laC as he calls himself,...
It started with a gentle knock. I barely heard it. I was worked up North at a Fly in Fishing Camp in Saskatchewan. I remember standing on the dock looking out on the calm waters and contemplating my existance. I remember raising my arms above my head and breathing deeply. In that simple movement linked with breath I felt a stir, a quiver of what was yet to come.
I sit thirteen years later on the beaches of Goa, India, midway through my first one month Yoga Teacher Training Intensive. The faith it took to get me here amazes me. How many moments along the way I thought I wasn't good enough, smart enough, strong enough, yoga enough. The people who believed in me along the way are my greatest gift. Those who lite the fire and asked more of me I will forever remember.
The past two weeks have been intense. Extreme elation to deep sadness. Feeling homesick and missing our beds to having a moment of bliss in meditation.