Avocado Heart

I’m surprised my breathing is so even, so smooth, and that I feel as rested as I do. I’m shocked I’m not as overwhelmed as I expected to be. I’m pleased to say that, despite a plate that spilleth over, I’ve never felt happier or more fulfilled than I do right now.

I’m just coming to the tail end of a nine day work “week.” On the very heels of a [nearly] two-week-long, rigorous training on an ashram. Needless to say, I’m spread just the tiniest bit thin. But I don’t feel like butter melting powerlessly on burnt toast, oozing lethargically in an attempt to stretch itself, reaching every corner before it’s consumed. In fact, I’ve never felt less like butter. I can’t help but think instead of avocado, in this analogy, which I lovingly refer to as “mother nature’s butter.” Firm yet supple, spreadable when need be but with an element of denseness, protection from the heat that will come and pass. Bruise it may, but ooze it does not. 

What a strange analogy but, regardless, I feel it worked for my purposes. Knowing myself, I would have expected grumpiness and exhaustion catapulting into such a monstrous schedule straight out of a challenging, draining immersion. The ashram was exquisite, but the load was also draining. Not enough sleep or food, a lot of mental stimulation, lack of creature comforts, the feeling of rushing, the enjoyable but steady pressure of learning and absorbing…I have nothing but beautiful memories and would do it again in a heartbeat but, I’ll admit, I’m still refilling my energy reservoir in the aftermath! 

The refilling process is slow and steady. Slow because of working nine days straight, steady because of commitment. Devotion. Passion. I taught straight away upon returning from the ashram, and I felt the inspiration of the sacred place flowing through me, into my students’ practices. What a gift. What a Divine honor. I teach again on my first “day off” this week, and I’m already brimming with inspiration on what thematics to weave into the sixty minute flow.

I swear I’m not trying to publicly pat myself on the back here, by mentioning ad nauseum this 9 day work week and how thrilled I am to not be a melted pat of lard after all the draining hard work. The truth is, I have a sorry excuse for work ethic, which is why I’ve nearly gone bug eyed when I saw I was working these infamous nine days straight. Ha! Honestly though, I find my work ethic (in terms of punch the clock, get ‘er done work) to be a little low. Especially considering what hard workers I have for parents. It always has been this way, I feel. I’ve worked since I was fifteen, don’t get me wrong, and I love the idea of working, and the idea of a hard earned, solid paycheck. But, in reality, I want out of there. Wherever “there” may be. I want out into the world. I want to get paid to write, here, to all of you. I want the keys of this computer to be my time clock and my passion of holistic nutrition and wellness to be spread far and wide like smooth avocado across the toast of humanity.

There I go again…

Really though. I just feel like a big ‘ol avocado heart these days. Despite the drainage, I’m bursting with prana. Life force. Vital and sacred life energy. I believe that, in tuning adeptly into our own internal rhythms, we gain the capacity to bob easily in the motion of the external ocean. Most of the time, at least. Stillness is not known without some rocking. Quiet is not known without occasional eardrum battering noise. Peace is not known without having seen the reflection of ignorance.

The real truth? These are all one. Stillness and rocking, quiet and noise, peace and ignorance. All one. Oneness. The same. While the “yin and yang lover” in me wants to cry out, but there is! There is a black and white! I know there is not. It all comes from a single wave of energy, a single thread of Awareness. It is all Divine. And it is all One.

So no matter the number of days I’ve worked, if I slept on a sloping hill in someone else’s sleeping bag for two weeks, if I’ve an overflowing or completely drained reservoir of inspiration for teaching yoga…it is all One. It will all refill and it will all reintegrate. The highs are the lows because there is only one filter.

In realizing that, and I mean really grasping it, in my slippery avocado fingers…I’m suspended in a moment of Divinity. Grace. Clarity. I’m offered a spacious slice of freedom. When that moment of clarity passes, which it tends to do, I no longer have to fear. Because I know it will return. I know it is one with the fog, the haze, the confusion. I know it is there, ever burning, waiting for me to tap into it. Access it. I know it is there, indubitably, in my ever ripe avocado heart.





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