intention

I'm reading (inhaling) a book right now that feels like it came into my life at exactly the right time and without me even seeking it out. It all but jumped from the library shelf into my arms some weeks ago (I'm on my second renewal period...)    It's called "The Wisdom of Yoga", written by Stephen Cope - a Yoga teacher from the Kripalu Center for Yoga and Health in MA.  It's beautifully written, an artful combination of inspired real-life stories and information based firmly in the Yoga Sutra tradition.   I'm pouring over it carefully, journaling as I go and, yes, sipping coffee.  Hey, it works for me!  ;)

Last week I read a chapter that detailed one woman's journey of change.   In beginning, she formed a clear statement of intention that she wrote in her journal and also placed in visible corners of her home.   An important stepping stone, it provided the focus and clarity to ease her transition.   At the time, I remember pausing in my reading - trying to envision what my intention is.   Insert sound effect of crickets chirping here.  Nothing.  Nada.  I couldn't form even the vaguest idea, even though I know what's "wrong" with me, what's peeving me, how would I frame this in the form of an intention statement?   I began to grumble inwardly, then turned my frustration at the book.  "Stupid intention statement....".     I didn't give any more thought to it.

Until today.

Today was an influential one for me in many respects.  What most comes to mind is a long, soul-rejuvenating talk on the phone with an estranged friend.   Without getting into specifics (which maybe I will at some point, but not tonight), this is a person with whom I shared a year of friendship, a year which threw my life into turmoil.  An eventually healthy turmoil, but turmoil nonetheless.   To be completely honest, I fled from her.  I fled in fear and couldn't bring myself to stay in touch, even though this is something that felt wrong to me on so many levels.  I just couldn't cope.  As much as I wanted to, I couldn't cope.   A week ago she emailed me out of the blue.  When I saw her  name in my inbox, my first reaction was to close the browser window.  Slam!  Shut the door and ran away and hid (OK, figuratively... but only barely so.).     About 15 minutes later, I opened it again.   A simple message - short and pretty much just a "Hey, thinking of you lately and wondering how you are" kind of deal.   Before I could lose my nerve, I clicked on "reply" and wrote her a response.  I was, for the first time, completely honest with her.  I was honest with myself.  I sent it, not knowing what I'd receive back in return (if anything).   The rest of the day saw me checking my mail with butterflies in my stomach - would she reply at all ?   What if she didn't?  Perhaps worse, what if she DID?

She did.   She replied in a most gracious, heartfelt way.   She wrote with honesty and compassion, and said things that began to heal me spiritually (to risk sounding all airy-fairy)... she extended her phone number to me, and said "I really hope to hear from you".   I stared at the numbers, wondering if I could actually do it - could I actually phone her?   This was on a Tuesday.  I phoned her on Sunday afternoon, but only reached her voice mail.    Her voice on the recording, it brought so many memories back to me.  Hard memories, but also there was the essence of her strength and spirit.   

(I realize this is probably ridiculously vague to anyone reading this.  I guess a bit of background info is helpful - my friend was diagnosed in 2007 with breast cancer at the age of 29.  She had one breast removed, but was left with inoperable cancer cells in her chest wall.  She and I were close and to it was a very, very difficult time.  She responded to her cancer with bravery, without fear and with a positively healing attitude.  She is doing beautifully.   I, ridiculously enough, struggle with fear and anxiety.  Ironic, no?  )

This morning she called me.    We talked for an hour.  I am still in awe of her beauty and spirit, but I also had the amazing opportunity to see how real she is.  How she also has struggles, times when she doubts herself and feels lonely.  I feel like she and I journey together for a reason,and there is a reason why she is back in my life again.  To open myself to this is scary.  I'm scared of the whole why, how and what will come of this.  I'm scared, but I'm willing to let go and see what happens.

Letting go .... a very apt bridge into what I first began this post with the intention (ha) of writing about.    Today, my friend said something in passing about how funny Life is - how, when we cling tightly to something, somehow it seems that Life does something that shakes things up.   I laughed at the time, saying how right I think she is - how events in my life in the past two years have really shown that to be true.   I didn't think much of it at the time.   Later on this afternoon, though, it hit me with such amazing clarity - - my intention.  My starting point.   My intention is to let go, to release my physical and emotional clinging.  To release attachment to my fears surrounding my health, my mortality.   When this took shape in my mind, I felt such incredible peace.    This is a powerful jumping off point for me, but feels deliciously simple.  Not simple in that it will be an easy process just because I have my intention, but because my intention itself feels right.  It feels purely simple.

Hi, I'm Katherine.  Kathy to some, Kay to some, Kass and even Kat to others.   I'm often feeling great, except for when I'm not.   I'm  far from perfect and ultimately releasing any residual stuff from my past that led me to seek this.   Most importantly,  I'm on my journey and I'm willing to learn and grow.


~K