The most relevant response

I had the idea that tonight I was going to write here something related to a postcard a friend sent me from Japan, something I’ve had written in my head for a while. That, and maybe watch the new Love Island UK season premiere. Then, I got back from yoga, had dinner and have had a heavy headache since. I don’t get headaches often at all anymore, which is nice. (I think since I started meditating—and overall developed more practices and space to listen and respond to my body and its signals in a more supportive way.) It also feels like a lot, I think because I’m no longer used to it. I’m reminding myself I just got back from traveling, was at altitude and in freezing temperatures skiing in Colorado, and looking at a screen most of the day, so my body and brain are probably responding to all that.

In the Vedic meditation community we talk a lot about “relevant responses,” which I think requires 1) present moment awareness and 2) the ability, and choice, to align, which may mean surrendering an expectation or prior idea. And in any event, meaning this event, it didn’t feel right to force write what feels like a special story post, because that’s something I want to enjoy. It did feel right to take an ibuprofen, which I also don’t do often, and also to write this post on relevance. And somehow writing it has not worsened my headache, and actually felt good.

On surrender

Today at 11:11am Los Angeles time, my friend texted me. It was 1:11pm Chicago time, where she now lives, and we’ve developed this habit of texting each other when we see the times align across our time zones, a little shared moment of numbers magic, even if contrived, which reminds us of our friendship, and our own magic.

Today, I told her that I’d had a harder morning, and took some time for a good cry (emotional sweat). She encouraged me to let it out (“No shame; it only makes us stronger.”) and shared that her current personal focus is getting comfortable with asking for help, and letting go of things. Only a few minutes later, she sent me a text with “Just saw this” and a photo of a calendar page and quote.

If you surrendered to the air, you could ride it. -Toni Morrison, Song of Solomon

I’m currently reading The Surrender Experiment: by Michael Singer, which is his autobiography. Surrender is something we talk about often in Vedic meditation (like “surrendering preferences”) and I’ve found it to be a freeing, and expansive concept. As Singer describes it:

What would happen if we respected the flow of life and used our free will to participate in what’s unfolding, instead of fighting it? What would be the quality of the life that unfolds? Would it just be random events with no order or meaning, or would the same perfection of order and meaning that manifests in the rest of the universe manifest in the everyday life around us?

In practice, Singer describes it as:

The practice of surrender was actually done in two, very distinct steps: First, you let go of the personal reactions of like and dislike that form inside your mind and heart; and second, with the resultant sense of clarity, you simply look to see what is being asked of you by the situation unfolding in front of you.

I think of it often as trying to swim upstream—a cling, reach, for what was, what we know—as opposed to flowing with the current, surrendering to be led downstream to a place that may be, probably is, so great, that we can’t even envision it because we’ve never even been to it! Also, it makes the process, the journey, the trip, so very much more easeful and enjoyable. And that part, I think, is just is important. Maybe most important. Life is a constant flow, constant change.

To surrender.

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For AshRising, Ashley angel! To floating through, and surrendering to, life and all its magic together

Follow charm

In the Vedic meditation community, we talk a lot about “following charm” (more here). It’s the encouraged, natural, intuitive way to move through life. Whenever I introduce friends to the phrase—when I am charmed to—I’ve found they love it. How charming.

The more I’ve cultivated a habit around looking for it, listening for it, feeling for it and following it (as charm presents in so many ways), the more clearly I find it glint and glitter in every moment. I’ve introduced much more lightheartedness and play into my days as a result, and it gently redirects me away from a life a “should’s,” and the empty operation of autopilot. (“We have to stop should-ing ourselves,” is one of those go-to mindfulness language jokes.) Because that’s when purpose comes through, and all is a muscle, and the more I follow charm, the more I see it glint and glitter in every moment.

I’ve found a handful of regular, quotidian ways to fold charm into daily decisions. The little inflection/reflection points have become opportunities to return and re-root with charm, especially if I’ve veered off course in a sea of emails and pings.

Questions & moments for inviting in charm:

• What do I want to wear? How do I want to dress up? Who do I want to be, how do I want to feel?

• What do I want to eat? What feels like it will feel good now, and one hour from now?

• How do I want to move my body? Some days it’s a high-intensity workout, others a yoga flow, and some days an hour of rollerblading on the Venice Beach boardwalk. In many moments throughout the day, it’s dance breaks, which really make me so happy.

• What do I want to do, in this very moment? Is what I’m doing, or is what I planned to do something that has to get done? (Like, does it really have to get done, like, right now?) If not, is there something else I would rather be doing?

I started drafting another post, and then I was charmed to write this one. I published another post, and I was charmed to return to this one.

Enjoy the charmed path—it’s completely yours!

Everything is optional

This is one I said in as an offhand comment, in an offhand situation, and it struck resonance. I was the car with a friend, and she was talking through whether she wanted to do something or the other. As I remember it, while looking out the window, I said, “Everything is optional.”

She has repeated it back in many ensuring moments, in person, in texts, in times when I needed to be reminded of it myself, too. To be reminded that I was the one choosing in my life, and that in everything there is a choice. Everything, everything in our lives, in our days, in all we do is a choice. Even when it’s a sliver of choice that seems impossible to find, it’s there.

In my first, full 20-minute meditation session on my own during my Vedic meditation training, a panicked thought popped into my head almost right after I closed my eyes. What have I done; what am I doing; what have I decided to do; do I really have to do this for a full 20 minutes, twice a day, every day, until forever…??! It felt scary and like resignation, and then, a quiet voice gently, and powerfully reframed it almost right away. “It’s not that I have to do this. I get to do this.” That felt so much better. So much more freeing. So much more fun. And I made the choice to stay in that meditation. And I make the choice to do it, for me, as a gift, every time I do it and have, twice a day, for the past 2.5 years.

Remembering this, the option, the choice, I find brings more intention, presence empowerment and and appreciation for wherever I am. I have chosen to be doing this. To be writing this post, to be letting it go with little re-reading but the choice of feeling satisfaction and completion. I can choose whether to continue doing, anything. And in finding that choice, asserting that choice, this becomes more mine, and my gratitude and appreciation for it multiplies.

Where is the option here, wherever you are. What is it, and what do you want of it?

(Shout-out to my sweet, deep Scorpio friend Janna, who is following her surfing, skating, dancing heart to Hawaii for a couple months this summer. I adore you!)