Certainly there are the obvious things such as the earth, the atmosphere, the stratosphere, and much of the known universe - scientifically speaking.
But also, there are the less obvious (and sometimes less scientific) things such as mathematics, genetics, generational bonds and curses, fashions, trends, faith, belief systems, and love.
This month, I am moved.
I've been left touched, moved and inspired... by many things, really. But mostly, by the simple and striking recurring act of the earth's gravitational orbit around the sun.
In simple science, it measures time, for us. It creates the environment for many, many variables to coexist in a very narrow range. It creates life.
In an astro-physical sense so much is being created and influenced during that gravitational pull. Here, in our tiny little specks of human lives. And out there, in the universe, the galaxy, and far beyond in the unknown, the stuff that we can't see nor conceptualize, which happens to be most of it.
Maybe it's the season. Maybe it's because it's my birth month. Maybe it's the daylight savings. I really can't say. But, in November, I am introspective.
This year, it was a slow and quiet arousal. I found myself elbow deep in my epiphanies, suddenly and without warning. There was no game-plan, no usual moroseness, nor typical, seasonal social withdrawal.
One minute I was feeling quite lonely, reflecting on this time last year - noticing that 5 of the people in my inner most circle are no longer here... due to death, prison, geography, and simply growing apart. And then, just like that I am laughing with some friends over a casual glass of wine, and BAM - like a flash of light, I see clearly what these shining faces around the table mean to me, who they are really, and why they are there in my life.
One minute I am feeling anxious and losing sleep over a stack of bills, and then just like that over my coffee and eggs, a realization, and then a plan, come clearly into focus - washing over me with a calming effect, and leaving me in peace, sipping on my warm coffee, just fat and happy,
One minute I am feeling tired and overwhelmed, simply overcome with all of life's idiosyncrasies. And then, just like that, on a long run in the rain, I can see clearly, almost in high-definition, the gifts, the strengths, the areas that need development and the obstacles in my life. Ground-breaking.
I am choosing to believe that all things being circular, 2010 was a learning year. It started terribly, on the eve of my birthday, which coincidentally fell on Friday the 13th last year. I didn't know until the following morning, but as it turned out, my young, and beautiful colleague had passed. It was sudden and tragic, and we all mourned deeply. Death, is never easy. Unexpected death, well, that will kick you straight in the guts and leave you on your knees in confusion and mercy.
What happened next was a yearlong series of unexpected events. Some beautifully poetic. Mostly, sad and confusing. But all of them, intense. I asked a lot of questions of myself, and others. And mostly, I remember just tightening up my boot straps and fighting my way through it.
The heart of the intensity came to me one grey evening, recently, as I walked through the city towards my yoga studio. I was forced by construction to take a more crowded, and often avoided, route. During this trek, a group of students emerged from the subway stairs. They were about 15 deep, and being goofy, as kids mostly are they walked side by side, occupying the whole sidewalk. They walked with their faces down while texting and talking and were consciously oblivious to the outside world. Surely, this is precisely how I was as a teenager.
As I approached them on the sidewalk, I started to plot on my change in direction to navigate around them. Doing so, would mean walking at least 50 feet in the wrong direction and all the way out into traffic. Or, I could stop completely and hope that they would simply come to my obstacle and part ways, like the sea. What I did instead, and without thinking, was hunker down. Eyes up and chin down, I looked straight at them and quickened my pace. As my speed and intensity grew, so did my anger. Admittedly, it felt surprisingly good as I bowled through the wall of teenagers, shoulder to forceful shoulder with kids about 15 years younger then me. The tallest one, turned around glaring. His hands were in the air, and his eyebrows furrowed, like he had something to prove. His young girlfriend did the talking and cursing, and threatened to show me how she earned her nickname. I simply stared, empty, at them all, and said quietly "Do any of you have something to fucking say to me?" And just like that, they quieted. Maybe it was the quiet tone in my voice. Maybe it was the empty look in my eye. Maybe it was my shaved head. Maybe it was pity. But, nope, they had nothing to say. They turned around and continued on their walk. Just like that.
I went straight to the nearest stoop and cried.
For those that know me, I am not generally an angry person. And when I feel anger, I am present to it. I allow myself to be in that place safely, and briefly, and then I allow my mood to change and evolve - onto higher thinking and loving. It is natural for me to seek peace, and feel nurturing. So it makes all of the sense in the world that after that experience, I would sit down on a stoop and cry. I wasn't crying from vulnerability, or even in shame. I was crying at the realization of the loss of self. How empty I was, in the wake of all that was happening in my world around me.
My daughter has this neat thing that she does recently, when she is trying to illustrate a point. She'll draw a simple analogy and place you in it. It doesn't seem like much, I know. But when you see her in all of her animated action, glowing in all of her raw emotion, it really hits home.
"Sofia, eat your squash"
"Mamma, how would you feel, if you saw something new that you never saw before. And your mamma asked you to try it so you did. And what you found was that it felt like you were eating a bowl of rotting, black strawberries. But then your mamma forced you to eat it anyway. Wouldn't you feel sick? Wouldn't you be sad that you couldn't make your own choice. Wouldn't you?"
How would you feel if life wasn't being easy on you? If you were being dealt blow after blow in an almost comedic string of unplanned events. Wouldn't you feel angry? Wouldn't you feel sad, and overwhelmed, and complain all the time? Wouldn't you feel disrupted and bereaved and lost in trying to pick up all of the pieces? Wouldn't you?
And so I choose to believe that that circle has come to a close. With the full revolution of my 31st year behind me I had this awakening that it was a learning year. While mostly intense, and with many fires blazing around me, I survived. Some things burned up and became ashes, and what stuck with me I carry through to the other side, renewed. I arrive here, in the start of my 32nd year with vision and purpose.
I have no idea how I got here, but by God's mercy and grace.
