Greetings from the ultimate holiday minimalist.
In my work as a writer, I aim to create conflict and tension. In my other occupation, I do the opposite.
I’m teaching my regular Thursday evening yoga class on Thanksgiving, as I’ve been doing for the past few years. Not many people come on the holiday, but a few do. I’m grateful for being alive in my body, capable of movement, awareness, breath, and glimpses of quiet inner space. Grateful for the teachers who’ve passed down this tradition of wisdom and well-being. Grateful to my students who allow me to share it.
I’ve attended a few retreats during which meals were fully silent or silent for the first ten minutes. It made me aware not only of the taste, texture, and aroma of the food, but also of the companionship of others, the deep quality of their presence.
A yoga class always ends with silence and stillness. I guide the relaxation process, and then I stop talking. It’s wonderful when some other fortuitous silence comes with that moment—a lull in traffic outside the studio, or the heating system ceasing its noisy efforts. The mind can follow, dropping its noisy efforts as well.
Thank you for reading. May your day be peaceful.