Down and out, knife in the heart, kicked and beaten, and what felt like being shot in the cellar like a Romanoff would be an accurate summary of last week... At least that’s the story I created in my head.
But not so in reality. By all metrics it was an extraordinary week at Yoga Lab and personally. So why am I playing the victim? If you’ve been through training you know the moment I get a whiff of victimization, I’ll rake you over the coals (#sorrynotsorry #growup). I think it’s the human condition to default into this behavior, to question if one is worthy, if one is a fraud, if one is good enough. It’s the wear and tear of life. Much like tires, the tread inevitably wears down. Stripped. Until there is the only the bald exposed base of life.
I HATE—and I mean *despise* quoting others. I think your thoughts, just like mine, are original and more than enough. However, when I randomly heard a reading on NPR of Dylan Thomas’ 1947 poem, “Do not go gentle into that good night” ....things took a rapid shift.
Life fills us with reminders. We celebrate art and literature for a reason, because they have the emotional pull to draw something out that is palpable. I think that’s why art exists, why poetry and literature aren’t simply a frivolous and meaninglessness endeavor of the tortured. They remind us.
One line. One sentence. From a poem written in 1947. That’s all it took to put everything in order within me. “Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.” So what’s it gonna be for you this week? What word? What sentence? What are you willing to let in to mitigate your bullshit? You think you’re trapped? Perhaps it’s time to get off your ass, or just open your ears and take something in. Not necessarily some grand act. But perhaps what shifts significantly this week is simply your willingness to hear.