Forgiveness & The Art of Letting Go

 

I've learned alot about forgiveness of others through the practice of forgiving myself. I've learned alot about forgiveness of self through an intimate relationship with nature. 

During my thirties I became very active practicing yoga, hiking local trails and kiteboarding during the windy months in Los Barriles. In spite of my discipline, life would often interrupt. Sometimes I would miss a class or a hike or time on the water. Windy days would pull me to the sea and were hard to ignore or pass up. Working full time and raising a family meant the wind could not dictate my life. Nor could the trails. Or a class. When I missed time with others, I felt like I had fallen short. With my time spread thin in those days, I often felt like I wasn't enough, like I could never do enough. I often felt like I was struggling to keep up. I wanted to be enough, to feel like I was enough. Just as I was. 

I realized one day when I returned to the beach after some time away, as I felt the wind in my face and got back on the water: I was received completely. As I was. The same happened in the desert. When I returned to the trails and felt one foot in front of the other while marveling at boulders, desert trees and flowers after rains: I was received. Completely. No questions asked. No reproach. I felt forgiven for my absences, shortcomings, mistakes. No judgement. Welcome to be present whenever and however I could. I felt the space to learn and grow and be. I felt like I was enough. Just as I was. And know I am enough. Human. Constantly learning with a heartfull wish to remain open to the magic, surprises and humbling experience of this human incarnation. 

The meditation below is inspired by my personal experience and practice and requires about 20 minutes, maybe a little longer. You are welcome to simply read the meditation and let the words percolate into the heart and mind. Later allowing the meditation and practice to surface in your own words. Feel free to make this practice your own, allow it to evolve and morph into whatever shape or form feels most supportive to you in your personal practice. As you read along, please consider everything offered here to be in the spirit of invitation. Whatever resonates with personally: take it with you. Whatever does not resonate with you personally: feel free to let it go. 

The spirit of embodiment; a practice in cultivating a forgiving heart; a forgiving nature.

Whenever you are ready, feel free to find a comfortable position, you might choose to sit, stand or lay down. Honoring whatever position feels right for you body today, balancing effort and ease, tranquility and alertness. Allow your eyelids to be relaxed, slightly open or closed. Grounding the body, feeling – inspired by the words of John O’Donohue – the clay of the body connecting with the clay of the earth.

Taking a few slow, deep breaths, notice what is present for you right now. Simply noticing. Without judgement or trying to do anything. Being with the breath and whatever arises for you in the next few moments.

Deepening the connection between the physical body and physical earth, we are going to call on memory, an opening to the imagination, calling on a place that feels forgiving to you; a place you can return to over and over. A place that welcomes your presence, forgives your absence and does not judge you; a place that accepts you, receives you as you are. A resource. Maybe a place nature: a body of water, mountain, desert, forest, or a building. Maybe the place or room you are in right now.

A few more breaths. Taking your time.

1. With kindness and opening deeper to memory, recalling a person, group, situation or maybe even an institution you might wish to forgive, perhaps someone or something you feel connected to in a way that creates tightening, constriction, that might not allow you to be fully present when you think of them. A memory that hooks your attention making it challenging to be fully present. A being or beings you might wish to feel liberated from the bonds of difficult emotions.

Gently acknowledging whatever has arisen, creating space for this experience to be held with kindness.

Opening to the experience of the moment, being with whatever arises without judgement. 

A few more breaths. 

Gently letting go and returning to your resource, sensing the connection: grounding your body, feeling your connection with the earth.

2. Returning, opening, deepening and remembering: this being or others or thing you wish to forgive.

This time, noticing if there is a storyline. This might be a storyline that has played in loops in your mind. A reoccurring story that you are familiar with. Allowing the words to string themselves together. Witnessing the story as it unfolds within you. 

And now, gently pressing pause on the storyline.

Inviting your awareness to scan your physical body, sensing. Allowing your attention to move to wherever you might feel sensation. Maybe the belly, chest, throat, the muscles around your face. Another place. Directing your breathing, lovingkindness and attention to this area or these areas of the body. 

Noticing if there is an emotion, a cluster of emotions or feeling state you can name. What do you feel?

A few common emotions that may arise in conjunction with difficulty letting go and forgiveness of others: feeling wronged, betrayed, hurt, sadness, anger, grief. 

Whatever you feel. Leaning in and honoring your experience and holding space for yourself with compassion and any amount of ease.

A few more breaths.

Then seeing if you can let go and gently return to your resource, your physical body and

a grounded place that embodies forgiveness for you.

3. Deepening and for our final visit, remembering the being or beings you wish to forgive, imagining them feeling everything you have felt; whatever feeling sate or emotion that has come up in you that makes it difficult to forgive, to let go. 

Imagine standing on the same earth, breathing the same air and experiencing the same emotions – your storylines, backgrounds, beliefs, personalities, and much more may differ – gently leaning into the experience with compassion for yourself. 

A few more breaths. Leaning into your experience with kindness. Taking your time. No rush, no force, being wherever you are today.

And now, if it feels possible, available and authentic, offering any amount of compassion to the other. This may be the most difficult part. In fact, this phase may be practiced on its own after some time working with steps 1 and 2.

Forgiveness does not mean you condone whatever has happened to you or between you nor does this mean you allow it to happen again. You might even take a stand to prevent this from happening to yourself or another.

Simply and profoundly, this practice invites you to you allow the story to be part of your history. Deepening your well of wisdom. 

Through a willingness and openness to feel your own hurt, anger, feeling of betrayal, sadness or grief – or whatever is present for you right now -- you allow the light to shine through the cracks and open to your own heart.

Letting go, any amount and remaining open to life. 

Feeling your vitality and willingness to be with your own humanity, the entirety of your experience, recognizing the continual flux and change moment to moment, day by day, remembering this part of your story does not define you.

This willingness to be with it all gives you range, depth and the ongoing ability to be with yourself, as well as, with others who may experience the same emotions or feeling states alive in you right now.

As we move towards closing our meditation session, a few full breaths, feeling the clay of the body connecting with the clay of the earth, traveling to this place of forgiveness within you, this place that does not judge you, accepts you for who you are, holds you with lovingkindness and utmost care. Embodying the spirit of forgiveness, cultivating a forgiving heart and a forgiving nature. May you be happy, free and present to the life within and around you. One breath at a time.

“Forgiving yourself allows you to let go of the person you thought you needed to be. Forgiving others allows you to accept what has happened and let go of needing to change it.” 

Najwa Zebian

A Little Family History

 

Dear Friends,

I love stories. Personal stories. I'd like to share a little about myself and why this particular part of the Mindfulness Meditation Teacher Certification Program: Diversity, Equity, Inclusion and Accesibility Training is important to me personally.

A little family history to create a foundation. My father was born in Germany after World War II. His parents were Jewish Holocaust survivors. They migrated to the US when he was small to live, as my grandmother liked to say with a smile: The American Dream :-) My mother was born in Texas (very much of Irish and Scottish decent). My parents married and chose a life of overlanding. Their travels carried them mostly up and down the west coast of the US and throughout Mexico. While my mom was pregnant with me in southern Mexico, she and my dad managed to hitchhike back to Oregon so I could be born in the US. Eight months pregnant and hitchhiking! Seriously. Jogging to get in the next car.

My childhood continued with these travels. I spoke English first and began speaking Spanish at the age of four naturally from hanging out with the locals. I was a toe head who blended in culturally and yet stood out physically. When I was seven, my parents decided to settle down in northern California, leaving Mexico behind until my mom returned when I was a teenager and I had forgotten my Spanish. I'd disconnected from this place physically, culturally, linguistically. When she moved here, I rebelled and stayed in the US. Then decided to follow in her footsteps and was immersed in ninth grade. It was like starting kindergarten. Regression. My language skills were basic. Gracias y porfavor. Six months of immersion and my mom was right, I did remember. Again, I blended in culturally and stood out physically.

The next few years included a deep conflict about where to eventually build a life. When I would return to the US to visit, Mexico was a dream. I wanted to stay there. When I visited here, the US became a dream. I wanted only to be here.

My heart is here and so I began a life here as a young adult. Immersed in the Mexican culture and community. Until my early thirties when I started taking yoga classes. Then, only offered in English. I started kiteboarding. Wind and waves draw athletes to this beautiful destination. Yoga, wind and water were my social reconnection with the US. This filled a need I had to reopen and include this part of myself.

I am married to a local. Our children are bilingual and bicultural.

For a great deal of my life, I didn't feel like I belonged to either culture and at the same time, I belong everywhere I am. Because I wasn't sure where I fit in and often felt like I was straddling both sides of the border, somewhere in the middle, I found a sense of freedom. To be who I am. And create my own path. I imagine this discovery in my life lead me to Buddhism. A natural fit. The middle road.

I am an architect. My husband is a civil engineer. We've been business partners for over twenty years. Longer than we've been married. We were friends and colleagues for several years before I realized: I love this man.

Realizing that no one was teaching yoga in Spanish to the local community --- booming offerings in English for tourists and part timers or expats --- I became certified six years ago and teach in both languages. I started in Spanish with the locals and then branched out.

Our clients are predominately from the US or Canada or abroad. We live in Mexico. A developing country. In a rural area where goats still walk the dirt road by our house daily. I can hear their bells as they meander by. The beauty of Baja captured my heart when I was a teen. A moon rise over the Sea of Cortez and that was it. This place draws people in. Many who are from different backgrounds.

Now, my life feels more balanced in both cultures and within my own being. I continue to navigate with a certain freedom. And, I have questions. I have so much to learn about diversity, equity, inclusivity and accessibility.

Thank you for listening. I look forward to learning more about each one of you.

With love and deep gratitude,

Tehroma

This letter was written to my Affinity Home group as we are encouraged to introduce ourselves to our group of peers at the onset of each program. The entire MMTCP program runs two years: February 2021-February 2023. The required affinity home group for DEIA is considered a critical and fulfilling part of our journey in the the MMTCP, filling a time period of June 2021-December 2021.

Count Olaf

Count Olaf is one of the main characters from a movie I watched with my kids years ago: A Series of Misfortunate Events. This came to memory when I heard we were expecting Hurricane Olaf.

Quite fitting. Hurricanes come with a series of misfortunate events. High winds cause destruction. Heavy rainfall causes flooding. Power outages, water shortage and disconnect from the outer world. Hurricanes are dangerous, scary and humbling.

Hurricanes also bring fortunate events. Rain to quench a thirsty desert. Greenery to feed free range cows. Aquifer replenished for all our water needs. Family time. Deepen connection with the inner world. 

Destruction and creation. Disconnection and connection. No power or internet at home creates space for a different kind of communication. I asked the kids if they notice any advantages of not having internet for a while. Their answer is no. I remember they came into a world with internet available at their fingertips. At times I've wondered if Google replaced me.

Up at the ranch on this Sunday, a few days after our first hurricane in a few years. Solar power, water from local natural spring and satellite internet. We came up here for our youngest to complete their homework due by Monday morning. The likelihood of us returning tomorrow is high.

I remember conversations Javier and I had about moving our family here years ago. We decided against it because Palo, our youngest child now sixteen, would be too isolated during their high school years. This reasoning feels ironic. We are now a year and half into a pandemic and a second school year online. 

While we are comfortable here for a few hours and maybe a whole day, to stay up here as a family in one room is a little too much togetherness after all the time together during our extended lockdown.

Since the pandemic began in March of 2020, we’ve been cautious and respectful of protocol. Palo’s history of asthma, memories of sleepless nights and labored breathing are deeply ingrained. It is possible at age 16 they have outgrown their asthma. We choose to error on the side of caution until we are all vaccinated.

Javier and I are fully vaccinated. Dylan, now 23, awaits his second jab. Vaccination against Covid-19 is not available for minors in Mexico. Not yet. We hear Pfizer has been approved for 12+ in our country. Lack of sufficient vaccines means we wait.

Meanwhile, across our northern border, vaccines are available for 12+ and free. 

We can’t travel because Palo's passport expired in May. I filled out the form for a new passport. We need pictures and to send the form to the US. Hurricane Olaf hit and we are stalled. And now there is no rush. A few more days after months of wondering: Do we travel and expose them or do we wait? This question has been answered for us. We wait. At least we can feel like we are doing something. This offers us hope. As do the friends up north who have reached out said: Come stay with us! We feel deeply loved and supported.

Meanwhile, the entire country is full of teens who will not be vaccinated except for the fortunate few who can cross the border. As we wait together I am reminded of the inequity in distribution or availability of resources.

Having been born in the US and ensuring my children’s dual citizenship, the privilege of being able to go where we want or need to go has been conveniently available. Within reason. At least we've felt like we had the freedom and access to whatever we needed. This experience of not having immediate access to a vaccine for my kid who is of age and eligible is humbling, a reminder that people all over the world suffer from inequitable distribution or access to resources: funding, food, water, safe housing, education, vaccines.

We are fortunate to live on a knoll in a house built with concrete and steel with storm shutters that cover our windows and protect the glass from flying objects. We are fortunate to feel safe when parked underneath a moving natural disaster with destruction in its wake.

And here I sit. Off grid. A fan whirling overhead. Privileged. Comfortable. Grateful. Overwhelmed. Breathing a sigh of relief. Feeling the quality of pressing a reset button. 

Hurricanes are similar to traveling.  A journey. We are not the same as we were before the storm. We go into the dark of night and get up the next day, look around and what we see is different than the day before. 

And it isn’t all dark and messy. In the middle of the night, Palo and Ollie came into our room, tapped me on the shoulder and said: Can we stay here with you? They couldn’t sleep and then I was awake. We were whispering and giggling and Javier got up. Moved to the couch. Palo turned on the flashlight and we started making shadow puppets. I made a chicken and then a giraffe. They laughed and said they looked the same. I demonstrated: chickens have short necks, giraffes have long necks. We talked about waffles and breakfast. Bacon and cheese waffles with and egg on top. Red velvet waffles for my birthday. Oatmeal waffle cake for Javier’s birthday this month. His favorite cookies are oatmeal. We’ve never made an oatmeal waffle cake. Waffle irons don’t heat up the house like an oven does. Shadows puppets, waffles, laughter, Ollie, our little white fluffy dog sleeping and the sound of the wind. The comfort of being near each other and knowing our entire family was under one roof. Pets were safe and so were we. 

I will close this post with gratitude and pride for our kiddos. They put up storm shutters with us in the drizzling rain, rolled with all the punches that hurricanes bring without an eye roll, foot drag or hiccup: preparation, going through and the aftermath. Just like we have so many times before. Seasoned pros. The two of them taking one of our old lady dogs to the vet when she couldn't get up and walk outside on her own. Then Dylan carrying her out to do her business and carrying her back inside again. This one is no small dog, part German Shepherd. As a parent, I often wonder how these two will be as adults. This weekend with all it tossed in the air, reassures this momma mind. We are raising resilient, intelligent, wise, kind and caring adults in the making. And, Google has not replaced me.

"When you come out of the storm, you won't be the same person who walked in. 

That's what the storm's all about." 

~ Haruki Murakami

 

We Are All Travelers

Fall 2020

In this moment, I am seated at my desk in my office at Healing Winds. I can hear the sounds of life and work happening around me.

Misael, our newly hired draftsman, soon to be graduate specializing in Eco Architecture is working on a project presentation for one of our clients. I have known him since before he was born; his mother is a dear and longtime friend.

I can hear Javier next door talking with Carmen as they analyze costs for a construction bid we are preparing to present for a house I designed this summer.

Kim, our Acupuncturist is in her office every day working with patients. We are blessed to have her 36 years of experience and thriving practice at Healing Winds.

After sadly closing the studio last spring to comply with safety precautions and social distancing, it occurred to me: with everyone at home, there was a very good chance folks might begin viewing the art of dwelling indoors and outdoors with potentially a fresh set of eyes. Our homes and working spaces are an outer reflection of an inner evolving imagination and unfolding lifestyle.

Before re-opening our multidisciplinary fitness studio, mid-September, the space was professionally sanitized. In addition to researching COVID-19 safety Protocol with Yoga Alliance, checking in with resources in Mexico, the US and Canada, we (Carmen, Juan Jose – Sabomnim Black Belt 1st dan Taekwondo – and I) took courses provided by IMSS to become certified in safely reopening the studio for classes with students.

In person Yoga & Meditation classes are offered in Spanish and English. Deborah offers online Yin Yoga for those who preferring to practice at home. Taekwondo is offered three evenings a week. With the Drop-In culture being a thing of the past, we re-opened our classes to students who pre-register for class and comply with a list of safety guidelines in order to attend.

After having the studio closed during the first summer in five years for safety reasons – we are a year round facility – reopening and gathering with students and friends to breathe, meditate and move together is enlivening, soul nourishing and more special than ever.

With lockdown re-occurring in Ireland and France (and maybe other areas as I write), I am reminded to voice my perspective: every time we gather, we don’t know if it will be our last for any amount of time. The latter is true, pandemic or not.

Reminders of impermanence and new ways of being are everywhere.

At a time in our lives when I imagined our kids, Dylan and Paloma, would be more independent, my husband and I are their main in person social life.

For example, on Halloween this year, Paloma asked us to dress up, knowing we would be staying home. We didn't talk about our costume ideas. Three of us showed up for dinner dressed as travelers, adventurers of some kind. What a delightful surprise!

Paloma was Milo Thatch from Atlantis: The Lost Empire, an adventuring linguist obsessed with the history of the underground city; Dylan was the castaway from a pirate ship. The stuffed parrot on his shoulder was a hoot! I embodied the gypsy. Javier put on a mask that matched his Day of a Dead T-shirt he smiled proudly to be wearing.

For the past 7+ months, I feel like the four of us have been traveling on a long adventure, reminiscent of the shorter and more distant travels in the world we've embarked upon as a family.

We are all travelers, adventurers of all kinds. Whether we leave our homes or not.

That particular weekend marked the celebration of Halloween; Samhain: The Celtic New Year; Dia de Los Angeles and Dia de Muertos. Traditions from both sides of the border and across the Atlantic Ocean.  I also enjoyed the Online offering of a Celtic Soul Immersion with Sean from New Orleans and Mary in Ireland. What a joy to see friends and teachers on screen, to hear their voices and invite their energy into our home. The internet provides a unique opportunity to travel when in person presence is otherwise challenged.

Our family traveled to Ireland four years ago to honor the threshold of Dylan's High School graduation while I attended a Celtic Spirituality retreat. The following year, Paloma and I returned for a rite of passage with Mary to honor the threshold of her teenage years. Paloma and I were with Sean and friends in NOLA the year before last and had a blast! We were ready to return this March when lockdown was set in place and our trip was canceled.

Seasonally, this time of year and the weeks leading up to the Winter Solstice offer a time of introspection, reflection; an opportunity to release that which no longer serves us, is in alignment with our purpose or may be holding us back from being fully present in our lives. We are continually invited to open our hearts and minds to the dreams, goals, the life we are living and journey we are on individually and collectively.

During that online immersion, Mary reminded us of the way time is viewed in the Celtic Tradition: honoring the circular nature of time and cycles of the seasons. Minute to minute, day by day. In Mexico, we often say or hear of doing things ‘poco a poco’ (little by little).

There is great wisdom in moving at a slower pace, an opportunity to see and be with the beauty and mystery before and within us; the reality of there being no place else to be, but right here, right now, with the richness of being fully human and alive to all the gifts and challenges that life offers us on this ongoing adventure.

In the words of Lao Tzu, "“A good traveler has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving.”

Sending love and blessings to you and yours.   May you be healthy, safe and live with ease.

Tehroma