I won't be going to the Goddard-Riverside Book Bash today, for I am having a sick day. However--if you are reading this today, I urge you to get there--brand new books from publishers at excellent prices, all to benefit the Goddard-Riverside Community Center. It's a fun event and a way to rise above what psychologist Jennifer Sweeton calls "Post-Election Stress Disorder."
I had a long conversation with a friend who has strong Buddhist leanings; she challenged me to think about recent events as an expression of a huge ache in the heart of the country. I acknowledge the existence of that ache, but how do I balance it with the heartache that rises in my classrooms? Some of my students are concerned about immigration status--theirs, their parents and extended family. There was a walk-out at one college I teach at, and there are meetings on all campuses--administrators, faculty, students--lots of support, information, and, too, confusion.
Where will they go from here? Where do I go? A few months back I wrote about taking yoga teacher training--today that immersion seems ever more right. However, my body tells me, not so fast. My days of contorting myself--at least physically--are done. I can study the tenets, live a yogic life of nonharm--and do so while the world around me flails. Nobody says that will be easy.
A neighbor told me I need to think about something else. He gave me a tour book of Prague. As I write "Prague" I can't help but smile. In the past weeks, I've forgotten how much I want to go back. I tuck the book on my shelf between my other awareness-raising tomes. I write mental notes: don't forget the world is huge. Don't take for granted the freedoms of this very moment.