transitions

smooth + mindful from one thing to the next

Bidding farewell to summer is bittersweet. I have trouble letting go of my grasp on beach days, sunshine, refreshing seasonal meals and warm summer nights – it breaks my wimpy heart just writing about it.

Although there is something magical about the crispness of autumn air, the smell and miraculousness of the changing leaves, the beginning of pumpkin flavored everything – this transition is particularly tough for me because I anticipate the upcoming chill and its related hardships during winter. You may feel the opposite and dread leaving behind the cozy days of winter for a sweltering summer, but I think we can all relate to having something in our lives that we find difficult to transition in to or out of, whether we anticipate it or not. Regardless, as stated in the beautiful poem Wild Geese by Mary Oliver: Meanwhile the world goes on.

Since I’ve moved to the east coast and have been fully exposed to the reality of the changing of the seasons, I’ve had to ask myself why it’s such a struggle for me to transition away from something [fusion_builder_container hundred_percent=”yes” overflow=”visible”][fusion_builder_row][fusion_builder_column type=”1_1″ background_position=”left top” background_color=”” border_size=”” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” spacing=”yes” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” padding=”” margin_top=”0px” margin_bottom=”0px” class=”” id=”” animation_type=”” animation_speed=”0.3″ animation_direction=”left” hide_on_mobile=”no” center_content=”no” min_height=”none”][summer] I hold so dearly without panicking. Oddly enough I moved to New York right before a frigid winter. At the time I was so discombobulated that, every single day of that long cold season, I reluctantly found myself facing the harsh reality of transitioning into living here.

Feeling much more stable emotionally, I now have to make a conscious choice to observe the ways in which I attach myself to summer, among other things [chocolate], and transition through the hold I have on them. These observations continually reveal both genuine and not-so-awesome explanations of my character, as life will do when we take a step back to notice how and why we do things.

Yoga Sutra 1.3 explains that after we clear the fluctuations of the mind, our true self is revealed, or we are established in our true nature. As my yoga practice reminds me to do on the daily: I’ve been getting to know [and accept] my fearful self, the one who anticipates and plans rather than experiences the transition from one thing to the next, only to look back and see what I missed – a lesson, an opportunity, an emotion that may have been buried or pushed aside by seeking something else up ahead.

I don’t think it’s a fault or flaw to have a tendency to plan a future or hold on to something, tangible or not, for fear of loss. Maybe I’m just protecting myself from the ways in which these qualities are undesirable, but I believe it shows I care enough to hope for a bright life beyond today and keep the things and people I love part of that life.

That being said, obsessing over these things so much that we forget to bring ourselves back down to earth in the present moment is not a way to live our lives, if we hope to maintain relationships and spend quality time with the things and people we care for. This is easier said than done when life gets tricky or disaster strikes; it’s understandable why someone would want to seek refuge elsewhere in an uncomfortable situation where loss is involved and leaves us with no choice but to let go of the reigns. It can be true for losing a loved one or moving between seasons, jobs or relationships. We anticipate because it’s engrained in our bones for our survival, but that doesn’t mean we can’t learn from and be present in the transition from one thing to the next.

In the asana practice, we are advised from the very beginning in Sutra 1.1 to be here now. If we’re not aware as we transition from one pose to the next, it can be potentially hazardous for our body: checking out during the flow from uttanasana [standing forward fold] to jumping to chaturanga [halfway push-up] could be disastrous for our shoulders if we’re not paying attention to proper alignment.

This introductory Sutra, Atha Yoga Anushasanam, basically translates to Now is the practice of Yoga. Not tomorrow or next year or once I get this job or get to this point in my life, but this exact moment. How can such a simple piece of philosophical pie be so precocious to swallow? We can find ways of washing it down and applying it to our modern life, whatever it means for us and however it works best for us.

Here are a few reminders that help me stay with myself and my current situation as I transition from one thing to the next:

• Open my ears. Nothing brings me back to the present moment like fully hearing the sounds around me instead of the ones in my head. It’s also a good reminder of what’s real versus fabricated in my over-active imagination.
• Notice my movements. It can be as simple as the way in which I step one foot in front of the other, or grab something off a tall shelf in my kitchen cabinet.
• Have a quick conversation with myself about the situation at hand. For example I ask why something matters so much that I can’t loosen my grip, offer compassion by allowing myself to feel however I feel about it, and make an effort to notice [as often as possible] where I can be present or release struggle in whatever discomfort I experience in any given transition.
• Give myself the benefit of the doubt by noticing the ways in which my anxiety about the future or my holding on to  something benefits my life. Then I acknowledge the ways in which they do not serve me, so I realize the importance of [eventually] dropping it and being present from one experience to the next.
• Recognize the anticipation for something and the shutting out of the current situation. Then I try to go a bit deeper to discover why I am not present, or what I am shutting out in real-time that might seem more comfortable in my imagination. What emotion or experience am I trying to bypass and why? More importantly, what is the point, and does it serve me?
• What can I learn from the transition from point A to point B, whether I never wish it would end or would love nothing more than for it to be over? How can I keep myself safe if it’s dangerous and acknowledge my feelings about it later, or keep myself from losing my mind if it feels so good I don’t ever want to feel differently?
• When I do dose off, I try to take a moment to experience what I went through and ask myself if or why I chose to check out of it. What can I learn from this, and what can I note for next time?

How do you stay with your transitions, and move gracefully from summer to fall? Share and comment if you can relate, or offer your own tips!

Read the full newsletter for my go-to year-round salad recipe, my fall teaching schedule [new classes!], a sweet end of summer deal for wellness + lifestyle coaching, and a gorgeous new song from Jessie Ware.[/fusion_builder_column][/fusion_builder_row][/fusion_builder_container]