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Steady on the Path

During Yoga Teacher Training eight years ago I learned
a tale of warrior Arjuna and Lord Krishna. Arjuna was
moaning and groaning that he didn't want to engage in
battle, and Krishna informed him that he must-- BUT
that he could choose the battle.

Of course we know the most major battles are the ones
that we wage in our own heads:

*Do I or Don't I take the plunge into something new?
*Is this good enough to send out the door, or do I polish
it with some more analysis/paralysis?
*Does it really matter what I do with my life?


Arjuna struggled mightily with his desire to BE AT
THE MOUNTAIN PEAK, and Lord Krishna gently
informed him, "We do not leap to the mountaintop;
we get there one step at a time."


While the great leaps forward occur in our minds,
it's the footwork here on the earth that gets us to the
mountaintop. Keep on putting one foot in front of the
other--steady on the path toward your dream.


******************************************
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FEATURE ARTICLE
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STEADY ON THE PATH
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My mother killed herself by not manifesting her great gift,
which was aching to burst forth and be legitimized.

A brilliant teacher devoted to young children, she began
training to become a Montessori teacher at University
of Cincinnati when my sister and I were adolescents and
we lived in southwestern Ohio.

In 1969 we were transferred to Memphis, which saved my
life but cost my mother hers--at least her intellectual life.
She deemed the Montessori program in that area to be
inferior and decided not to continue with the training.
In essence, rather than going with the flow and accepting
what is, she "wrapped herself in her pride."

Even though she laughed about it when imitating her
starchy great aunt's use of this phrase, this was her customary
and classically rigid Germanic attitude toward life, which
ultimately does not serve well.

As a result, she had no legitimate means of channeling
her incredible gift with children and giving herself a new
reason for being as an empty nester; a refreshed purpose
in life. As her own children grew older and slipped away
she turned more and more to alcohol.

A ten-year slide into alcoholism led to her tragic fall and
physical paralysis as a quadriplegic at age 48. But really, she'd
been emotionally paralyzed for years and had no idea how
to get unstuck.

I remember the day we brought her back to their new home
in Buffalo, New York, from Strong Memorial Hospital in
Rochester, after five months of rehab following her accident.

A fresh college graduate, I was there trying to be helpful
until I could figure out my next step in life.

Although I loved my mother from the depths of my heart,
nothing I could do would save her from her plight--she
had fixed it so that physically, there was no way out. And
the alcohol had destroyed her spirit years before it
destroyed her body...

When my father rolled her into the living room in her
wheelchair for the first time, as gently as possible he
lifted her out of the chair and laid her broken body on
the couch for a rest.

She didn't cry, but as she turned her head and looked
across the room, her eyes conveyed a depth of sorrow
that shattered me.

Stumbling and fumbling, I sat at the piano with trembling
fingers and tears rolling down my face while making a muddled mess
of "You'll Never Walk Alone." My shell-shocked father,
seeing her in the house for the first time since her injury
and just beginning to grasp what it would mean to their
lives together, knelt by her side on the floor and wept.

I don't think I've ever seen him cry, before or since.

By denying her gift, she had denied herself--and the world.
Our gifts are not ours for keeping. They exist to be
given away.

--excerpted from my book
BACK TO THE GARDEN:
Getting from Shadow to Joy


Because of this, my own story,
my goal is to awaken possibility in YOU!
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1 Comments:

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May 17, 2013 at 10:40 AM  

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