Just yesterday, my husband and I were talking about commitment to practice, the benefits of a regular practice, the importance of the preventive aspects (both physical and mental) of a regular routine, and why we feel we want to reinvest in it, deepen our resolution. So, in a sense we were revisiting our intentions and the relationship to our sadhana / practice. This year has been particularly challenging, as for everyone, and the practicalities of these difficulties have taken energy out of us, simply put. But this, in turn, is the gift - as it helps us turn our gaze and ask the deeper questions.

In the light of this conversation, it was obvious that our motivation to step onto the mat or to take our seat on the meditation cushion has ebbed and flow tremendously this year. Perhaps as a reflection of the collective uncertainty, and the waves of triggers that may bring. And as empaths, we certainly feel the feels of other people’s struggles too. So in the context of this, maybe most importantly, it shone a bright light on the fact that when things get tough, a routine can serve us more than ever. When we find procrastination sneaking up on us, or when excuses are run through the mind in order to downplay the importance of just showing up, that’s when we need to just return to it. Without expectations, merely be with ourselves - again and again. This is when a practice works miracles.

This brought back many conversations and moments with my beloved grandma - mormor. She would have the attitude of just getting things done, with a smile most of the time. She was the type of lady that would roll up her sleeves and do whatever needed to be done. She was never too good for something. She always showed up. She had a humble warrior spirit that in many ways is still contagious. She would start her dips in the ocean early (I mean EARLY) in the spring, and continue far into the fall. She would ride her bike everywhere, she would go the extra mile(s) to buy produce from her farmer friends, she would support her artist friends, and care for others to such an extent that I always wondered how she had the energy to do all the things she did in a day - day in and day out. She was of service. She was a single mom, with three kids, and numerous grandkids. When the kids were young, she juggled several jobs to make ends meet. She was a peaceful warrior. But what she also always did, was to get up early in the morning and have her silent time before the household woke up. She would go bathing in the ocean once or twice per day and take a 10 minute power nap (religiously) after lunch, as part of her self-care routine. She knew she needed it in order to show up for others, so she took the time. I often think back to a moment when we were standing on the dock looking out over the ocean, talking about how the depths of the ocean is so still when there could be such turmoil amongst the waves on the surface. She related it back to life, that it has the same characteristics, and as a youngster, I soaked it all up as I felt it to be deeply true. This analogy has stuck with me since I was a child. She taught me so many things, to say the least. Mormor is one of my heroes.

And today, waking up to a fire in the building next to ours (thank goddess no one was hurt), it put last nights conversation - and the memories of grandma - in the year of COVID19 - into perspective. Sometimes it’s not enough to keep up a regular self-care practice in the light of our personal intentions. Sometimes, it has to hit you hard enough for you to snap out of your personal grooves. Let’s remember that simply because we’re in this body, and have the opportunity to experience (forget about the content of experience), we also have the privilege to show up for it. We are gifted the experience of Life and have the opportunity to bask in its teachings - moment by moment. The content will inevitable continue to change, so don’t get stuck with the fascination of the content of experience.

We’re gifted a moment to breathe with awareness, move with awareness, sit with awareness. Whatever our ‘practice’ is, we show up simply because we can. Once there is no real reason, there is so much more gratitude and yes, I dare to say it - joy - in the mere witnessing and showing up. We simply show up - just because we can.

So, with this, I hope that when your personal motivation or intention fades in the company of worldly affairs or personal drama, that you will return to your practice / sadhana / center / inner sanctuary - just because you can. This in itself is the gift. Not the content of experience.

When we show up, simply because we can, the mental chatter doesn’t matter. The physical sensations doesn’t have the same weight. We’re showing up because we can, and thus we welcome the totality of experience, as it is. And we stay put, watching what comes and goes. There is equanimity and peace to be found here. This, is honoring the Life that we’ve been gifted and the vessel that we’re housed in. It means allowing everything to be exactly as it is, and merely spending time noticing what is. When this is the reason for showing up, grace flows.

My prayer is that we show up (in all aspects of life) simply because we can, because we care enough to do so. My prayer is that when it comes to practice, we do so simply because we know that we’re privileged enough to be able to. By doing so, I hope that our showing up spills over onto those that for one reason or another simply can’t (in times of COVID19 there are many that have lost their lives and their privilege to show up in the day to day stuff). We still have this privilege, so let’s show up for it. Maybe the body or the mind doesn’t feel fit one day, but we show up anyways. We’re there holding space for whatever arises. We watch the divine play of all of the various content of body/mind come and go.

I’ll leave you with this… My prayer to all of us is that we show up - wherever possible - just because.

om tat sat