staying put
A flush of warmth spreads over me, pinkening my cheeks like the newly blooming azalea bushes I saw on a recent walk with my dog. I smile at the brown eyes staring back at me. They are the eyes of someone I don’t know but they don’t seem unfamiliar. They are clear, kind, and the color of warm melted chocolate.
I giggle, smile, feel embarrassed and wonder why my mouth is being weird. Is it smirking, grinning, frowning? I don’t know what to do with it. Why am I thinking so much about my mouth? Deep breath. Settle in. Relax my jaw, lower my shoulders. This is what I tell myself to stay present and get out of my head and into my heart. I also hope I don’t have RBF (resting bitch face).
At the Flourish yoga festival at Arrowhead Farms a couple of weeks ago, my friend Caroline, led us through a soul stirring meditation. With her strong back and powerful presence, she shared openly about her glioblastoma diagnosis three years ago. A teacher, wife, therapist, and mama to her beautiful daughter, Caroline was given a year prognosis when she first learned of her tumor. And there she was, three years later, teaching and leading us in ceremony on this beautiful new day.
Exuding courage and hard-earned wisdom, she told us to look into the eyes of someone seated close by. For five minutes and without discussion, we gazed into the eyes of a stranger. It’s an interesting, albeit completely uncomfortable and intimate exercise, and one I’ve done only twice before, once in a psychology class in college and once a decade ago during a yoga class.
It was mostly quiet under the canopy of trees other than the chirping birds and gentle hush of falling leaves. The exercise offered a profound perspective . We’re all in in this together, we’re all so similar, and most of us need to get out of our own way. If we can stay with the discomfort, growth happens. We only need to practice staying present, feel our hearts beating in our rib cage. And to not look away. But if we do, that’s okay, we can always come back. That’s when something magical transpires, a deep, primal, sacred, and connected knowing.
A couple of days later, feeling grateful for having had the opportunity to do yoga underneath the bright blue sky with friends old and new, I interviewed actress and author Tembi Locke at a fundraiser for our local Hospice. Tembi’s best-selling memoir and Netflix series, From Scratch is a moving account of her relationship with her beloved husband whom she met in Italy in her 20’s. She cared for him for over a decade during his journey with cancer and she shared with us openly about love, caregiving, and grief.
She too spoke compellingly of the importance of community and connection. This connection, this being held by the network provided by her family and close friends is what kept her going during her darkest days. She told us to look into each other’s eyes. To not look away. To see this connection as a sacred contract. She asked us to see each other as we moved through the room after the luncheon on our way out the door and back to our busy lives.
This message of connectivity shared by Caroline and Tembi, both heartfelt leaders both making a plea and a prayer for us to be kind, present, compassionate and empathetic. And to care for each other even when we don’t know what to do or say. To keep caring, trying, staying put, not running away. To widen our circles, open our arms, and look into the eyes of those we pass and those right next to us. To see through the awkwardness and discomfort. Right now, as we are, right here. There is so much light and warmth here if we let it change us and don’t turn away.
If you’d like to support Team Caroline and the American Brain Tumor Association, visit www.give.abta.org. We will be walking here in Tampa Saturday 03/29 to raise awareness and funds for people living with brain cancer.