I lay on the ground like a pretzel as she spoke the words…
What’s it like to just be?
I thought about the people I want to know.
The clients…the kids…my friends…
My parents, my sibling, my loves.
I’ve spent so much energy learning what their being is like.
What drives them?
What scares them?
What makes them cry?
What is the day that brings them so much joy they can’t help but laugh?
It’s easier to answer that for them.
As I lay there, unable to ask a question.
Unable to investigate someone else,
My mind immediately went to my rising heart rate.
My scattered mind.
A knot formed in my throat and tears formed at my eyes.
Being is hard for me.
Doing is my go-to.
Busy is my norm.
Being requires me to have an opinion without satisfying someone else’s.
Being requires me to stop moving.
Being requires me to find what brings me joy.
Being rests in a confidence that allures me, but escapes me.
Being means saying no.
Being means silence and solitude.
Being is something I very much believe in and struggle to understand.
Even as I lay in shavasna, my mind began writing this poem….