Uncertain, about uncertainty.

Making sense of a shit storm.

The past few months have been undoubtedly interesting. It all started with the passing of my teacher. Shockwaves reverberated throughout the community. My heart broke in a way I wasn’t sure would ever be repaired. Might sound dramatic, but the loss of a teacher is something different. At least the way I see it, and feel it. Being a student was, and is, extremely important, and something I took to heart. Many may not understand. Many may not even want to. I am not here to make anyone get it. I’m only processing a myriad of feelings that after four months, I am still trying wrap my head around.

There’s grief. There’s gratitude. There’s emptiness. There’s what should I do with all I have learned? How do I pass this on with integrity and faith? And, let’s not forget, when there is loss, there are also those who take advantage. Although, that should never be the focus, we can never forget in times of uncertainty, there will be those who show up, and there will be those who show themselves.

Insecurity is loud. Confidence is quiet.

Love needs nothing. It’s the culmination of teachings one has absorbed that makes them ultimately abundant and full of wisdom. What has been utilized and applied, through work and dedication? They all live in the realm of experience in the world of the unseen. It transcends profit, status and validation through a piece of paper.

A leader is one who walks and doesn’t need to talk.

Many questions fill my mind and then I remember what my teacher often said, “just practice.” This is the one thing I can control. I can show up, but I can’t control how people show themselves. This is a time of exposure—an unveiling so to speak. Often the ground needs to shake, our foundations rocked, to rebuild in a new way. Clearly, there are those who try to position themselves, not through merit, but through other means.

It won’t be pretty, but it will be telling.

And well, there is a deeper teaching in all of this. The waters may be murky for a time, but maybe, just maybe, something beautiful can come of it—like the representation of a lotus flower. Maybe things need to break to be reborn. Maybe things need to burn for something to renew. When darkness descends, those who illuminate truth will hopefully inspire those who see with clear eyes, to speak.

My months in Mysore were beautiful and healing. There was no grasping, only being in the space filled with so many memories and so much love. There was nothing to document the time. No photos, no videos, as the day to day of two months lives inside a scared zone that will stay with me forever. There was nothing to show, only something to give. For all that I have learned through the years makes me feel abundantly grateful. As I am so honored to have been part of my teacher’s legacy in some small way.

And then I remember the saying, “calm waters, don’t make a good sailor.” In the spirit of growth, we can’t choose the easy path. It doesn’t mean we need to make our pathway more difficult, but needless to say, to become more conscious we must acknowledge the itch of triggers and resistance. It’s par for the course. It’s what’s makes us during challenging times. It realigns our focus where we may have fallen asleep. It carves out our character. The only thing we truly have.

Awakening can be brutal. For when fast asleep and comfortable there is nothing worse than being taken out of one’s slumber, but it is necessary to get up and get moving, because what is done in the dark must always come to the light, eventually.