a(nother) note on gratitude
I remember when my therapist first introduced the idea of gratitude journaling to me and I remember *lit*er*al*lly* rolling my eyes at her. Yeah, I’m that kinda therapy client. It was a couple years back and every time I actually remembered to write down my three things in the morning or before bed it was like pulling teeth.
Not like a tooth knocked loose by a….sports ball(...? idk) but more like a kid who was too eager to get two dollars from the tooth fairy wrapping thread around a doorknob and their one outside bone that wasn’t near ready to go. Anyway, I digress.
What I’m trying to say is: it was hard. Not because I had nothing to be grateful for but because…..*insert long dramatic pause where I looked out the window while writing this*...because I don’t know why.
I know I had and have an aversion to toxic positivity and spiritual bypass. Especially coming from Yoga+WellnessLand™, where both reigned supreme though thankfully the shine of their crowns are dimming, I hope.
In my yoga studentship, I’ve been digging in more deeply to the concepts of raga and dvesha, our likes and dislikes, what we prefer and what we reject, and how without discernment and awareness these “likes and dislikes” can shape our every actions, behavior, and goals.
In my studentship of dismantling oppressive systems within me and around me, I’ve learned there is so much to rightly reject in this world. In my most honest self-reflection, I see that I am often adverse to the world. Ongoing colonization, late stage capitalism, systemic racism, and the “metaverse” *shudders*
What if gratitude could be a guiding light?
Not to move through the world with a shit-eating-grin plastered on our face and moving only towards that which we like.
But as sunlight illuminating all that makes this place and this life worth all the dismantling and building. Because often what I felt like was the most material or superficial items on our gratitude list held an essence of comfort or joy or security or love or connection at their center.
The place I often feel the greatest gratitude, in nature, is often where I feel the depths of grief. A “what could have been if humans/systems didn’t mess it all up” kind of grief. A grief not unlike the one that bubbles up when I think of ‘family’ in a certain way and how my family ended up here. A grief that is more sensation than words that I can only hope to offer back to the earth and the mycelium beneath my feet.
I went hiking last week just before the lunar eclipse on the lavender trail, a gem of old growth forrest in the wissahickon. Here’s some fungi I saw while I was there...
And maybe mycelium is the mechanism of gratitude (for me) dissolving, dismantling, and breaking down my aversions in this world to uncover what was beneath the surface and worth thriving for.
Yesterday, I was prepping my website and promotional materials for a winter yoga series I’m excited to share with you all sometime next week. It’ll be a small, intimate container centering rest, yoga nidrā [deep relaxation + yogic sleep], breath techniques to build and expand our relationship with prāna [vital life force], reflection through journaling, and connection. More on that later but as I was writing a note of gratitude came flowing out:
the land I am on, occupied Lenni-Lenape Land, and to the stewards of this land past, present, and future.*
to lands that live within me as a seed of the Indo-Caribbean + African diasporas
the teachings and the stewards of yoga past, present, and future
to my teachers Mariel Freeman, Tracee Stanley, Chanti Tacoronte-Perez, Kaya Mindlin, Michelle Cassandra Johnson, and the kids + families of Get Fresh Daily programs and all I have not named.
to every person that has invited me to share these practices of yoga
That last one definitely includes you. Thank you for being here. Thank you for being.