As I set up my calendar for the month, I select a quote I’ve found that speaks to me. I write it in my planner and leave space below it to capture phrases I hear or read that speak to me and relate to the quote. I found this practice centers me throughout the month, and helps me be more present in my conversations, meetings, and readings. For May 2025, my quote was: “You are the rare and unique combination of what was and the bright possibility of what can be.”
More and more, I feel like I’m in a weird middle place. The past ways don’t fit as well – sometimes feeling like a tight shrunk sweater that restricts me and other times like meeting a friend from high school that you didn’t stay in touch with, you recognize them and remember the great old feelings, but the connection is gone. Candidly, it seems like it would be easier if the old “what was” came back into vogue. That I could slide back into that favorite pair of jeans again if you will. But then again, the “possibility of what can be” pulls me forward with trepidation and curiosity.
Here are the quotes, lyrics, and phrases that that caught the attention of my head and heart as I lived with the inspirational phrase “You are the rare and unique combination of what was and the bright possibility of what can be”:
- Life is not a fist but an open hand waiting for another hand to enter it into friendship
- Think higher, feel deeper
- Be responsible for the energy you bring into the room
- Write the ache; Write the awe; Write the in-between
- Give yourself the chance to go beyond what they’ve named you to be
- You’re not behind, you’re becoming
- This moving away from comfort and security, this stepping out into what is unknown, uncharted, and shaky – that’s called “liberation”
- Remember who you are – a child born with a piece of the sky in your pockets and thunder in your voice
- I wonder who I might become without all these heavy things I carry? I wonder who I am becoming because of them?
- Love me the way the wind does the chime
- The eye won’t see what the mind doesn’t know
- Turns out not knowing might be the holiest feeling I’ve ever had
- You’re clearly living your life’s purpose
- Our skin isn’t a border between us – it’s a shared holy garment
- You cannot stop sorrow birds from flying over your head, but you can stop them from building a nest in your hair
- There’s a lot of people out there waiting to experience your heart
- Give thanks for unknown blessings already on their way
- Who knew it could be so incredibly healing to just stay still and listen
- Dancing through waves of stardust
- Be interested rather than interesting
- Weeping is a state of temporary enlightenment
- A calming rain on the raw flames of my grief
- What a gift it was that the Universe brought me back to the only place I needed to be
- Wrapped in reckless joy
A year ago, I began yoga. Returning to 5 days a week of my beloved Orange Theory not only felt daunting after a nearly 2-year absence as I’d focused on my father’s Alzheimer’s, but also not fitting any more. As I tried to cajole myself back into “what was” (my favorite 6:15am Orange Theory) I kept hearing the call to yoga. Yoga seemed daunting too but necessary in a way I couldn’t explain. So, I stepped into the 7am “possibility of what can be” with yoga at Refresh, a neighborhood studio.
As I walked past Orange Theory on my way to yoga, a sense of guilt came over me. Like I was cheating on it with yoga. I felt less than as I thought about all I couldn’t do under the orange lights. I felt lost as something I loved and brought me joy no longer struck a chord. But I walked on into possibility listening to what called me forward.
Practice
As I’ve shared with friends, yoga has been humbling, humorous, and helpful. More of an internal sweat and workout in many ways. I realized my spirit needed to work some things out… while my body played along. Such as how to breathe again. Not the shallow quick hyper vigilant breaths of chaos, fear, and loss, but the deep stabilizing breaths that shift the brain from an alert-centered doing lens to an accepting being perspective. Or, how the tongue is my body’s built in stress detector, shoved up against the roof of my mouth, willing me upright in complex moments or yoga poses. And a big one, that practice is not just for little league, but for life. Looking at everyday activities as “practice” helped take the edge off of being in the unknown middle. Each moment was an opportunity where I could try to be more present, more curious, and with a more playful attitude – after all it was just practice.
This past week, yoga revealed a milestone lesson: that the practice in the middle brings about “the bright possibility of what can be.”
Bend
For a year, I’ve done various poses 3-4 days a week. I looked at each asana (pose) separately. This week at the start of class the yogi said the class would prepare us all to do “wheel pose” (aka, back bend or Chakrasana). I didn’t pay it much mind as that is an advanced pose to me. I just practiced each pose in that class as I always did. At the end, we laid on our mat and she talked us through positioning for wheel pose. I followed her words, pushed with my arms. Nothing. She proclaimed, “I know you’re all strong enough” — seeing possibility I did not.
She then offered a modification. We took our mats and blocks to the wall, and she gave us an optional way to move into wheel. We went one at a time, everyone applauding when a person achieved the back bend – and also when they didn’t but practiced getting there. I wanted to try. I let others go first thinking running out of time would help me avoid having to try and fail. I then went for it with the yogi next to me. With a big breath and relaxed tongue, I did it. All the way up. Both the pose and accomplishment felt delightful. I was there in wheel!
It was then that I realized it was the in between time – consistent practice, exploration, and modification – that prepared me for the next… and what a “rare and unique combination of what was and the bright possibility of what can be” being in the middle could be.
