Let Freedom Ring

English: Fireworks on the Fourth of July (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Bo·he·mi·an  [boh-hee-mee-uhn]  noun

1. a person, as an artist or writer, who lives and acts free of regard for conventional rules and practices.
2. a Gypsy

I suppose it's appropriate on July 4th in the United States to reflect on one of my core values, independence. What does independence mean to me, and how do I cultivate the spirit of independence without packing my hemp backpack and wandering around the lesser populated parts of the country? I've been feeling the pull to wander for a few months, while at the same time treasuring the time I can spend at home. Perhaps, like the day lily that appeared in a previously un-lily-ed part of the garden, my own roots are so firmly planted I am ready to risk spreading out.

I am lucky to have a wonderful life coach to guide me through turbulent times and to remind me to dig deep under the feelings to discover the value I have been living out-of-sync with. That's where the "ah-ha" moments happen. After sitting with hiding under my covers and trying to ignore what seems like such a conflict, followed by a minor meltdown, I began to see how much making space in my life for both home and wandering was going to be necessary.

Am I packing my bag? No. The work I've done around the house lately has made it feel more open, and I feel less trapped. I've made time in my schedule to wander in the woods at least one day a week. I've also taken a deep breath, reminded myself that teaching yoga was never supposed to be a full-time occupation, and accepted that my little yoga studio in our little town will never make me financially independent, leaving me free to stop striving and to focus on serving those whose loyalty keeps the studio sustainable. That is, after all, why I wanted to teach.

Yesterday I finished reading Marianne Elliott's Zen Under Fire. In it, Marianne talks about learning to slow down and drop the high standards she had set for herself, and about finding peace while working as a human rights worker in dangerous, post-U.S.-invasion Afghanistan. As I read her account of her morning yoga practice and how that ritual supported her work, I realized I have neglected my own practice. My yoga practice makes me whole, and when I step into the yoga studio as a whole person I can better serve those who come to me to guide their own practices.

So, if I have been skipping networking events and neglecting to update the studio's website, it is because I have redefined "enough" to give myself freedom to wander my little corner of the earth and explore my own spirit, so that I may serve you well. And, although I haven't packed it yet, I do own a hemp backpack and may someday take off on a bohemian adventure. But only if my house is clean.