take the time it takes

take the time it taIMG_0365kes to be ready, to connect, to be. i was practicing yoga when i first heard this phrase, “take the time it takes.” when things stick like that for me, it’s my signal to hold on to it, that this is important. i often think of it like throwing cooked spaghetti at a wall – what sticks is what’s important. this one stuck.

it was savasana, and the teacher said so simply and calmly and as though it was no big deal at all to take the time it takes to connect to my natural rhythm of breath. she went on to say (and i’m paraphrasing here) that for some it would happen quickly (which i interpreted as easily) and for others it would take longer (which i interpreted as struggle). but for her, no judgment. just for some it happens quicker, and maybe even perhaps more easily, while for others it takes more time.

too often we expect and long to be where we just can’t. we want spring in the winter, sun in the rain, five years ago than this time and age. what if we were to drop down into our natural rhythms and connect to the steady stream of childlike awe and wonder as we watch the clouds float by? what if we let ourselves not know completely and went ahead with life anyway, taking the time it takes to live the questions? how about letting ourselves grow into our own skin, knowing that 25, 35, 65 might, and likely will, look different for each unique individual?

i’ve been wanting to begin writing more, to get this website and blog ‘live’ and yet can’t quite seem to just sit down and get it done. so i’m not going to do that. i’m going to take the time it takes to put it together, to make it what i want it to be, and yet not wait until it’s done to engage with the world. it’s akin to saying, “a work in progress.” that nothing is really ever complete or perfect or just right when it hits the ground running. maybe for some folks, but i’m hoping by choosing differently it’ll open up space and permission to connect to what’s true for me and take the time it takes.


bridging the gap

bridges are such metaphors. connecting us to different lands, different places, different people. sometimes we’re up high on a bridge or close enough to dip our toes into whatever lies beneath. but we’re still on a bridge, caught between two worlds while in a world all of its own. sometimes what’s underneath is still, like in this picture, and other times it’s turbulent, scary, dangerous.

do you like bridges? what thoughts do they trigger in you? i’d love to hear what you think.