To release for a moment
and the act of loving this world
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A song I’m loving:
I was in a yoga class yesterday morning, my body dangling toward the floor in forward fold, when my teacher said these words: “let the weight of the world pour through the top of your head into the floor. Let the earth absorb it all. Set it down for a moment.” I felt a tingling sensation move from my skull down my arms into my fingertips; I closed and opened my fists as if I were shaking water off my hands, and felt some of the energy I had been holding pour into the wooden floor, into the ground, into a container bigger than me. There was a literal lightening of the load in this active practice of releasing it all, just for a moment. There was a relief in my body, a reminder that all I’m carrying isn’t mine alone, nor is the relief a betrayal to all that has been held.
I sometimes forget it’s not a personal flaw to be unable to hold the weight of the world in one body without getting overwhelmed, flustered, weighed down. When we’re taught to fix and prod and change and shift and heal and grow and mend and effort and dig and examine and excavate every part of our personal stories and selves, it’s easy to assume that should be enough… it’s easy to think we must be doing something wrong if, after all that work and trying, there’s still a heaviness lingering in the heart, stuck in the ribcage, ever-present.
When I feel the grief and rage now — the moral confusion as I witness dehumanization of an entire people and the starving of their children, as I witness families being ripped apart by cruel policies far too small-minded for love, as I witness attacks on the most human of us, as I witness cruelty spewed at those who have the backbone and courage and earnestness to speak out, as I witness heartbreak after heartbreak after heartbreak, I remind myself: it is healthy to feel grief and rage as I witness cruelty. It is the symbol of an awake heart to be horrified by horrifying conditions. It is a sign of humanity embodied. As Andrea Gibson wrote, let your heart break so your spirit doesn’t. Heartbreak, to me, feels like a deep love of this world.
These reminders are different than what many of us were taught — they’re different than what the wellness world wants us to believe. When we see ourselves as broken instead of seeing the cruelty and dehumanizing systems in our world as broken, all our time and energy gets spend looking inward instead of outward. All our efforts go toward attempting to fix ourselves instead of building a more beautiful and equitable world for all of us, even in our own homes first. So much of my own shame and guilt has been lifted simply by looking outward more than I look inward — by choosing to become part of a wider We instead of making everything about Me. And I remember this when I feel the weight of it all. It’s heavy because it’s heavy.
I know when I forget to lighten the load sometimes, my spirit gets overwhelmed and wants to turn away. It all becomes too much. So I practice setting it down where I can. Some places I’ve been setting it down lately: letting it drip to the floor in yoga class. Conversations with beloved friends. Reading poetry as a tether to the goodness and beauty so ever-present within us, too. Turning the music up and tidying. Walks along the water or through the trees. Running around the backyard pretending to be the Anna to my daughter’s Elsa. Baking. Finishing the final edits of my manuscript. Attuning to my clients. Connecting with people in my town. Watching the flowers keep growing, the lettuce keep growing, the kids in my life keep growing. Visits to favorite bookstores. Rest.
And when I regularly set it down for a moment, or an hour, or a day, I feel my heart able to widen to all of it. I feel myself able to hold more and more, not because any of us can be endless containers for everything but because I remember there are endless others stepping in when I need to step away. I’m not doing it alone. We’re not doing it alone. This unaloneness gives me more courage, more fortitude, more connection to my own heart and what I’m here to offer.
“If the world is to be healed through human efforts, I am convinced it will be by ordinary people, people whose love for this life is even greater than their fear.” I think of these words from Joanna Macy often; they keep me rooted to the reality that finding ways to lighten the load and love this world, even as cruelty continues, ends up being quite a gift. Taking care of ourselves as a way of staying engaged and attentive to not just the harm but the help ends up being quite a gift. Connecting to what brings us more alive and moving toward those things with fervent devotion ends up being quite a gift. Staying rooted to what we love ends up being quite a gift. I believe all of it helps us face the hurt in this world with open palms instead of clenched fists. I want to face it all with open palms instead of clenched fists. I want to let the cruelty widen my capacity to love instead of my capacity to hate, other, hurt. I want to take such good care amid it all so I can step in with compassion at the front. I want to do whatever I need to do to keep loving this world. I want to remember feeling my heartbreak is one way of deepening my love for this world. And I know you’re there somewhere, feeling it all alongside me, each of us a thread weaving beauty alongside the sorrow. Thank you for that.
And thank you, as always, for being here.
△ The most moving words I’ve read in a long time
△ These words from Shira, about grieving her friend & living now
△ One of many places to give direct support to families in Gaza
△ On psychic numbing & growing our capacity
△ Hanging on to hope amid the horrors
△ Honoring the extraordinary Joanna Macy
△ The sweetness of these three together (Broad City forever)
△ Kneeling before a locked door
△ My finished manuscript
With care,
Lisa
"I sometimes forget it’s not a personal flaw to be unable to hold the weight of the world in one body without getting overwhelmed, flustered, weighed down. When we’re taught to fix and prod and change and shift and heal and grow and mend and effort and dig and examine and excavate every part of our personal stories and selves, it’s easy to assume that should be enough…"
This spoke directly to the anxiety in my body! So well put, thank you for writing this
These are some of the most needed, relatable and applicable words I have read in a very long while, I am saving this to keep myself grounded. I am in deep appreciation of how beautifully written this article is and for the articles connected to this piece as well.