Nostalgia and Impatience
Holy Smokes! It's March. How did this happen? Isn't it strange the way life moves? At this time of year, as our end of the earth tips slowly away from the sun, I feel like everything is changing. I also feel like nothing is changing. I am both nostalgic and impatient. My back garden is a wild sea of pumpkin vines. I want to let the pumpkins grow bigger and to make summer last one more day. I also want to yank out the tangled vines and get on with it, I want to get on with frosty mornings and socks on my feet.
Nostalgia and impatience. What teachers they are! Both nostalgia and impatience stand in opposition to present experience. The mind is so tricky! Always it is snatching our attention and running away with it. Why must I look at my pumpkin patch and be in conflict? Why does my mind want only summer...or only winter? After all what is the fullness of summer without the emptiness of winter? They exist as one. The seasons are a fullness, a completeness together. I am not in conflict about this, but my mind is. In yoga, I learn to rest in a fullness that is both beyond and inclusive of my mind.