Things look so bad everywhere
In this whole world, what is fair?
We walk blind and we try to see
Falling behind in what could be
“Feel your feet,” I invite the class and myself into our bodies. “Inhale, allow your body to receive your breath, exhale, allow your body to release your breath.” The floor is quiet while we look for our breath. The doorbell tinkles as two or three more students enter the school and find their way to the floor. “Feel your feet,” I repeat. “Breathe in….. breathe out.” I’ve been startling classes like this for over 20 years, whether there are 3 people or 30, the effect is always the same – the veils that separate us drop, we answer the call to connect: to ourselves, to each other, and to the great Mystery that animates and empowers us all. But today was Sunday, June 12th. 49 of our fellow human beings had been killed in Orlando. 53 more were injured. It happened again. Only this time much bigger, and within a Nation whose resiliency is all but dissolved. Our country was in shock. We were in shock. While I said those same words and we flowed through our classes as usual on Sunday, speaking for myself I was a bit on autopilot.
All week long I debated with myself about how to be with my classes, how to “teach.” I told myself if I speak even just a moment to what is real then I have to point to the very real collective anger and grief. Would this be more harmful than useful? I told myself students likely just wanted to come to the floor and get a way from it all, be with cheerleader Kim and delve into their majestic thighs, laugh at the same bad jokes and leave feeling they had a bit of a vacation from it all. However, I simply could not bring myself to don that veil. And so, when students poured into classes and stood on the floor, I could not stay mute about this moment in time, this time in our world. I could not invite others into their bodies and pretend it was business as usual. I could not tell us all to breathe, but not to feel.
As the week unfolded classes were quiet but also peopled more than usual. I worked hard to strike a balance between my impotence to move my own energy and my professionalism to help others move theirs. However, it became apparent the practice floor was less a place for all of us to find form and more a place for all of us to find refuge. For us to find, if not our deep breath, then any breath; if not our power, then bit of flow to accept the rage and grief; if not our feeling steady in our body, then at least buoyed up a little by each other. Each day we did seem to breathe a little more, flow a little more; settle the shock a little more. By Tuesday evening Taijiquan, we even seemed to be in our bodies a little more. I will always remember the sound of 25 people articulating “Buddha's Attendant Pounds the Mortar,” foot falls strong, stomping in unison on our hardwood floor, over and over and over again.
As the week continued my identity as a teacher dissolved. I was simply a fellow student on the floor: a student of utter confusion, of vexed emotions, of perplexed meaning. I think all our identities dissolved this week. How could they not? With even one breath stolen, much less 49, we all gasp. When one heart breaks, much less millions, we all shatter. Even so, we come to the practice floor. At the entrance of our floor Rumi welcomes us: “Come, Come, whoever you are, worshipper, wanderer, lover of leaving..." So we all come. Our Gay students come, our Straight students come, our Christian, Jewish, Atheist and Muslim students come. Wise Elders and Curious Youth, all of our rainbows of skin tones speaking to the story of migration of peoples from all over the world, come to the practice floor. In our uniqueness and our sameness, we find unconditional acceptance while being faced, once again, with hate.
Friday 7 am Luohan Qigong class felt to be the culmination of the intentional effort of our student body this week. We were present and steadied within the range of emotions we were feeling. I put together a playlist for us, with songs that helped me this week. I felt vulnerable asking people to practice to it but I also knew it might carry us forward in helpful ways. We all have a lot of work to do at this time in our history, and we keep being shown what the consequences of not doing it are.
Let us work hard to make things better. We have to. We have to be kinder, more patient, more open, more bravely loving. We must root out and change these dark places within our individual and collective human heart. Let us use our practice to help us find sustenance and courage for both the hard work ahead and the renewed energy to celebrate the jewels we will find from it. We are each other’s redemption and our salvation.
May Peace Prevail On Earth.
Kim
Think about it, there must be higher love
Down in the heart or hidden in the stars above
Without it, life is wasted time
Look inside your heart, I'll look inside mine.
-Higher Love, Stevie Winwood.
