Vacationing From Ourselves

You may have noticed it's been a while since I've written. I kept thinking I should wait until I had some profound story to tell, some earth-shattering insight to share, or at least a spectacular photo to post.

As it turns out, I have all of those.

But they're not what I want to write about.

Instead, I want to write about something much quieter.

I feel incredibly fortunate to have had this much time away. Like many Americans who are still working, I've never taken such a long stretch of uninterrupted time off. During my retreat in Italy, I met people from all over Europe who spoke casually about their mandatory five-, six-, even eight-week vacations. One man from the Netherlands told me that by law he must take three consecutive weeks off every summer, and then he can use the remaining five weeks however he wishes.

Can you imagine?

For years I've envied that idea. Now I have a chance to look and see what so much "off time" give. Primarily, it has afforded me the opportunity to integrate the work and practices done during the retreat, this is something I never had the chance to do before.

Usually, I return home from a retreat and jump immediately back into teaching, running the studio, and catching up on everything I missed. This time has been different. I've had the opportunity to let the practices continue unfolding instead of packing them away like souvenirs. Sitting by the ocean, writing, meditating, reading, and simply allowing things to integrate has been a gift beyond measure. I won't go into all the details because much of it only makes sense within the experience itself, but I'll simply say that even my dreams have been participating in the process.

Perhaps the biggest thing that is showing up is seeing my own karmic patterns more clearly.
It's so easy to believe that if only this situation changed, that person behaved differently, the weather improved, Mercury stopped doing whatever Mercury is supposedly doing, then life would be easier.  I am good at playing the "blame game" when it comes to not having enough time/space/energy to do what I want to.  (I don't believe I am alone in that, right?)
Removing myself from my familiar routines, language, culture, and responsibilities has shown me something else. The structures of resistance and acceptance travel with us. They aren't always dependent on our surroundings.

We have plenty of sayings that point to this truth:
"Wherever you go, there you are."
"The grass isn't always greener on the other side."
"You can't run away from yourself."

We nod our heads because they sound wise.

But experiencing their truth is something entirely different.

Many years ago, a friend mentioned to me that he felt vacations are really vacations from ourselves. At the time I thought it was an interesting idea. Only now, after nearly a month away do I think I finally understand what he meant.

Of course, the "ourselves" in that above sentence has different meanings to different people, but for me its about removing the karmic structures from their usual habitat and seeing how they exist outside of their comfortable and established rhythms. It means stepping outside the environment where our habitual patterns are most comfortable. It's like taking a plant out of its familiar pot. Suddenly you can see the roots.

These past ten days, after the retreat ended and after friends had gone home, have been especially precious. For the first time in nearly a month I've settled into a simple rhythm of practice, writing, reading, walking, and listening. Ironically, my morning Portuguese lessons have suffered a bit. It turns out speaking with people on the street isn't quite the substitute I hoped it would be.  (It does help me realize how little I know, and that is always a good motivator!)
Now I'm curious.

What happens when I return home? Will those familiar karmic grooves reclaim their comfortable seats on the proverbial couch? Or has enough shifted that new possibilities will emerge?
Time will tell.

My teacher often reminded us that the only bad karma is the karma that keeps you asleep. Good karma is whatever helps wake you up.

The word karma simply means action. It isn't cosmic reward and punishment, as we often use it in everyday conversation. It is the actions we repeatedly take—the habits, tendencies, reactions, and choices that shape our experience. (More to come on that in the upcoming Yoga Sutras study course.)

Part of my own karma is creating opportunities for practice—classes, workshops, retreats, and conversations that nourish the actions (karmas) that awaken us while gently revealing the ones that keep us stuck.

It's a bit like tending a garden.

Even weeds require an action. Ignoring them is an action. Pulling them is an action. Planting something new is an action. A garden doesn't become beautiful by accident; it responds to what we consistently cultivate.

Of course, first we have to know which plants are the ones we intended to grow.
I'll leave you with one final thought, this one courtesy of my son. Years ago, after I asked him to help me weed the garden, and he said,

"It's only a weed if it's growing where you don't want it."

I am sure this bit of wisdom mostly came about because he didn't want to help me weed the garden, so he became quite happy with where the weeds were growing. 
Maybe that's true of our habits as well.
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I look forward to seeing you all soon. Some of the workshops below are ready with details, some will be coming soon.  I hope some of these offerings will help you cultivate the actions that help wake you up.