The last few weeks, the height of the summer heat, have served me insurmountable obstacles to posting a blog. Mostly it has been the seemingly constant draw of love and attention from Oliver. He is growing up so fast that I don’t want to miss a moment.
In an odd way, being with him is kind of like climbing in the Tetons. It has a way of pulling me into what’s going on – beauty, change, nature, life.
There has also been a pretty strong disinclination for me to write, perhaps part of some bigger shift in my mind. There have been several afternoons when the India-like heat down here has turned out half-baked blog posts on yoga. But my mind these days is not wanting to organize or sum up thoughts, or make any conclusion.
Sorting through old posts, the voice there sounds so much different from my perspective now. A bit simplistic, teacherly. It feels like most of the conclusions are already overcooked, stale, too far from the experience itself.
My mind is not wanting to analyze or document experience, to map the course or sum up the journey. It just wants to experience. Kind of like it did those summers climbing in Wyoming.
My mind put through the furnace of practicing here is more likely to incinerate the labels it makes, to burn down the cage of theory and expand into the panorama. The urge to ‘figure it out’ seems to have fallen away leaving room for the inclination to just experience this magical moment of life.