The Moment

Have you ever ended something before you knew what was to come next? Maybe you quit your job before you had another one or ended a relationship, or a project, with no idea if, or when, something else would come along. It can feel like standing on the edge of a cliff with a herd of horses galloping toward you and an abundance of indefinable space before you. There is fear and excitement, hesitation and enthusiasm. Often we will keep ourselves from standing in this precipice to avoid the unknown. Every moment, as it sits at the end of one thing and before the start of another offers us life.  

Recently I held my last class at a studio I had been teaching at for over 4 years and it was magical. Entering the studio to teach my last night was both sad for the ending and exciting for the future. Even though the transition was positive and I was leaving on good terms it was hard to say good-bye to friends and students who I have journeyed with for many years. The duality of excitement and sadness was palpable. What was unexpected was the profound experience that came with my final moments of teaching those students in that space.

While teaching my final restorative yoga class I kept getting struck in the moments of silence and stillness by the presence I was experiencing. With the immanent ending and the undefined future all I had available to me was the present. It was expansive. Each moment of the class felt heightened with the vibrancy of being fully present. As I sat there and the students drifted into their savasana I realized that every moment is charged with this vitality. If we allow each moment to be a releasing of all that came before and free from what may come next, then there is space for the expansive potential of anything to rush in. Each moment of this life is full of joy and gratitude, full of space and energy.

Along with the gifts of friends that I made from teaching those classes this magical moment of true presences is a treasure I will take with me. That clarity of present-moment experience was a physical remembrance for my soul. It was a clear expression that nothing ends or even begins; it is simply all right here, now, alive.