"By lingering and listening, we shared a moment of beauty."
I just read this today. It was in the context of lingering in an outdoor setting, lingering over a meal with friends, lingering in front of a painting in a gallery, and in that slowed moment, the author could listen differently. I copied down the phrase and carried the note with me through the afternoon, reading it again and again, wondering why it stayed with me ...
It struck me as I sat to a quiet, solitary dinner. What I'm hungry for is to linger in my own company. Slowing down outwardly is grand and needed and helps my thoughts settle, just as the author describes. When I sit a moment, still enough to feel my breath, I start to linger inwardly, and then I hear everything differently. But finding this moment of insight has taken the past 18 days in the dogs days of summer, my kids being away, days of detox from my regular calendar, time away from digital input and output. After all that, I feel I'm almost ready to slow down. Whew. What a pace we live at.
As I read this and reflected, I realized that this is what I want to offer with every class I teach: I want there to be a trust between us; that I will hold your schedule at bay for an hour or two, I will move you effectively and efficiently - just enough to feel your strength return and release old tension, but not to the point of exhaustion. So that you can taste a sweet connection, linger in the poses, in the moment, in the stillness without force - just enough to remember all the light we are made of, and then be still and rest.
Actions like this are intended as a gift. I hold the room, the sequence, the time. I offer the music, the pace, the tone. All designed for you to linger and listen and find a moment of beauty inside of yourself.
I'll meet you there xx