Thank God it’s spring. The flowers are blooming, the sun is shining, and I’m grateful to be fully vaccinated. I can’t help but nurture a sense of hope. This hope feels simultaneously audacious and justified. I have moments of genuine lightness despite feeling the usual current of anxiety and overwhelm. Some days are harder than others, but I’m finding it’s easier to return to a place of steadiness within myself.
This steadiness is partly due to my renewed study of yoga philosophy. It feels good to crack open the books that changed my life. No exaggeration. I’m infinitely inspired by the Yoga Sutras and have found new meaning in many of the tools I thought I understood. I have to tell you—while spring cleaning this week, I found one of my philosophy journals from 2007 and it has been fascinating to look at the teachings through the lens of my 29-year-old self. I knew so little and I Knew so much. I feel like I’ve forgotten/neglected some of that inner Knowing. On the other hand, maybe not. This past year, like other intensely challenging seasons of my life, has forced me to own my practice—to engage with it beyond an intellectual study. Rereading the sutras is giving me a chance to examine what I’m learning on the ground. Ironically, asking bigger questions has eased some of my doubt. The steadiness I’m cultivating may be fleeting, but it has been helpful.
Hope is also trickling into my closet where I believe my clothes live. I can’t remember—I haven’t worn a single thing in there for over a year and it’s starting to get to me. I desperately want to pull myself together. I want to be a dress person again. This feels somewhat aspirational but I think that throwing on a dress is a solid first step towards wearing real clothes. Here’s hoping!
Speaking of dresses, I’ve also been feeling the urge to dress up my table. Last Sunday I spent the afternoon ironing linens and arranging flowers for Sunday dinner. I’ve been craving a return to the part of me that loves to make things beautiful. I miss her. Now that we’re getting vaccinated, I’m hoping there will be some opportunities for some summer entertaining soon! Dreams of tablescapes and al fresco dining have me swooning over these goodies.
I’m learning that hope is a support. I hope you’re finding hope in meaningful ways, however small or seemingly insignificant. It all matters. Hope is a cumulative reminder that life is both dark and light. Please be gentle with yourself and know that hope is, like everything else, a practice.