We all crave connection. I think about connection a lot, mostly because it’s the core of yoga. Yoga means to bind, yoke or connect.
Moving across the country has severely limited my connections, at least in a face to face way. Luckily with Facebook and Twitter I keep up with friends and students from all over, but one weekend a year I dedicate to intentional connecting.
Or maybe it’s reconnecting.
Some years I’ve really needed their support and love. Some years I’ve been lost. Some years it’s been a wedding weekend or a reunion weekend. Some years it’s just been a big drunken fest with plunging into a way-too-cold lake, junk food, exotic-but not fru-fru drinks, guitar sing-a-longs, sleeping in, water gun fights, tarot readings, kitchen adventures and kayaking. This year my life seems okay.
I think they thought that after my partner got arrested for assaulting me I would need their wisdom and support. The truth is, I’ve healed, and it’s firmly in my past.
This was the year I was just inspired. I basked in the wisdom, talent and power of our little group. We’ve come such a long way the six, seven or sometimes eight of us. We started meeting five years ago to celebrate our 40th birthdays. This year we didn’t even mention our 45ths. We talked about step-parenting, new loves, parenting, and job woes. In the past five years, two of us have found the big LOVE and formed blended families. One of us (me) has ended a terrible relationship and found new wonderful love. One of us has kicked cancer’s butt, only to have it return. One of us has had open-heart surgery and thrived. In the past five years four of us have quit our jobs and some of those changed directions entirely and I can say resolutely that it’s because of this group.
That’s connection. We only see each other once a year, but we’ve walked each other through some shit. Some of us are closer than others, some of us are relatively new friends. There are some phone calls, texting and a FB thread that is always going, but our deepest connecting happens on this weekend of Dorito’s Cachaca, laughter and rest. Cause this is the weekend we can just be ourselves. This is the weekend we remind ourselves who we were 25 years ago and we remind each other of how amazing we each are and we voice our fears, hopes and dreams out loud.
Once again I blog a few days later with a deep sense of belonging, gratitude and pride. I’m such a lucky, lucky woman to have such a wonderful group of talented, smart, skillful women I call friends.
And the yoga lesson appears. Yoga is connection and connection is gratitude. And they both open my heart and it all helps me to feel whole and balanced and grounded. And that’s power.
And it’s all yoga.