Wednesday, May 19, 2010
With the Help of Wind & Rain
It has been extra windy around here lately. Extra. We live on a Great Lake so there is always a breeze, some wind, especially in the Spring, but it has been exceptional. During my retreat week, we lost power a couple of times for many hours. One of those times was while I was teaching a yogaDance class -- two and a half songs in, to be exact. So I got to learn that I was capable of teaching without music.
I have learned over the years that the wind often has a lot to teach us.
I found myself telling another yogaDance class last week about my belief -- the belief of many pagan/wiccan types -- that the wind brings change.
It's not a stretch, of course. Not something mind blowing. But we tend to anthropomorphize the weather and take it very personally. As if the weather is somehow out to get us, out to ruin our day or week or life.
As if we are that freaking important.
I used to be like that. The lack of sun, the rain, the wind...any "weather" at all was here to piss me off. Now when it's really windy, I imagine it blowing away all my cares or blowing in some new way of doing something.
When I left that yogaDance class last week, it was raining. Steadily. I was on my bicycle, which was parked and waiting...with an already soaked seat.
Normally, the profanities would cascade from my lips in a torrential downpour as ferocious as anything Mother Nature could conjure.
Not that day.
I had twisted my ankle a few days before but was recovering. I had purged a lot of grief barely 24 hours earlier. I was feeling a general lack of groundedness.
Prime moment for me to just lose it.
Not that day.
I walked over to my bike, put my dampened helmet happily on my head. Sat my tush on that seat without even attempting to dry it...what was the point...gripped those wet handles and took off into the rain, smiling.
And picturing how that rain was washing away the Ick of the week. Washing away the last remnants of that grief.
Even as the sun teased and it continued to rain, I did not get angry but was thankful for this grounding, sustaining Water of the Big Sky.
Yep, my retreat was definitely doing something.