A Moment of Peace

On and off for the past 15 years (and how can it be that long, but it is) I have practiced yoga. There have been periods of great progress, all different; sometimes I feel the physical difference, other times I’m more attuned to some other kind of opening be it spiritual or even a deep personal awareness I’d never knew could exist. Sometimes I have insights about myself that completely freak me out. And then, there’s always the ebb of the yoga tide—those months that I’m not feeling it. I just don’t want to go there.

I’m in the midst of a yoga renaissance of sorts and today I felt for a very short moment something I’ve never found before. I was sitting at my desk, looking at a spreadsheet of all things and I just heard that little internal whisper one sometimes has say, “I’m content here.” This is exactly what I’d been asking for in all of my latest twisting and down-ward facing dogging and pigeoning…and I got it. I found my way there. And I was completely freaked out, started wondering what that was all about. Then it was gone. But that moment was everything I have been working toward for the past 15 years. And it was so fleeting. But so wonderful. And in that one moment, I learned a lot.

In hindsight, I fell a little victim to maybe a Western or American or capitalist or human mindset, the one that asks, “Have I arrived?” or “Will this last forever?” I always ask myself that, as I think everyone does. When we have something or earn something, we want to protect it and keep it tight and ensure it’s permanent. And my moment today taught me that that’s exactly how we destroy that precious moment. Contentment is a moment. I think it’s possible to string together moments into something that appears sustained but it’s always momentary. And finding it means letting go of the worry that it won’t last. There’s nothing to worry about. It won’t last. But there will be another moment along soon if you’re looking for it. And you’ll catch that moment. And ride that wave as long as it lasts. And then let it go and prepare for the next.

I guess I was surprised there’s nothing to worry about. It’s there. But to find it, you have to cultivate the reflex to let it go not once, not one hundred times, but every time. Contentment, perhaps, is the reflex to not clutch it to you but to let it go from you.

All of this brought to you by Excel, of all things.

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