So wild flowers will come up
Where you are.
You have been stony for too many years.
Try something different. Surrender.
After teaching Nia for 12 years (the anniversary of my very first class is this month), I am taking a break for the summer. From May 1 to August 31, I will be on sabbatical.
I’ve thought about writing this post for a while now as this decision was made weeks ago. I have stories and analogies and lots of things to say about how I got here and what I think and feel about it. And for today, I just want to tell the truth: I need to release what I know to allow what is next. I need, as Rumi says, to be crumbled.
I love my job. I love teaching and moving, I love the people I get to work and play with, I love the music and the magic. And recently, I realize that I am tired, I am lacking inspiration. I feel stuck and unsure of what my path is as a teacher and a student. I feel lost.
When I spoke to other teachers far more experienced and talented than me about these admittedly disconcerting and even frightening feelings, they didn’t scoff or say to just soldier on. They said, “Of course. This is what happens. It’s perfectly normal.” They said, “Wonderful! You are on the next stage of the adventure! I’m so excited for you.” Hmph. It sure doesn’t feel normal. It feels like I’ve lost my bearings and my mojo. And darn barn, I want my mojo back.
But the other thing these wise and experienced colleagues told me was that there is no magic way to move forward from this place. There is no telling what it means or how to shift it or what will happen. They said, “You just have to do whatever you have to do.” For a while, I had no idea what that was. None. I was completely at a loss.
Then my one little word for 2012 came to me: Release. Let go and make some space. Even though that idea was just as scary as losing my mojo, there was part of me that knew absolutely . This is what I need to do. Release and make some space.
This month, I will be exploring this process of “sabbatical-ing” in my Nia classes and here in my blog. This summer, I’ll continue to write and share about the wild flowers that emerge in the space I’m clearing. I hope you’ll come with me and perhaps find something that you are ready to release. Something for which you want to make space.