End of Spring Session Muse: A Love Letter

As we close out our Spring session 2020, I reflect on these past three months. In so many ways we have used this opportunity to our advantage. We have definitely gone deeper into our practices and we have come to know ourselves and each other better than we might otherwise have. It hasn’t been all bad! One might say we’ve even had some fun. My monitor’s thumbnails introduced me to your cats & dogs, your living rooms & porches, your art, your loving companions scooting quickly behind you, trying not to disturb your lesson. You have some awesome Zoom backgrounds! Through your screen you have seen my garden transition from Spring to Summer: Tulip, Iris, Rose, Hydrangea and more all set against the shoji screens of my living room dojo. You’ve met the famous Mr. Boots, who seemed at first to like Tai Chi over Qigong but now seems content to nap through both. A true Taoist Master!

Strange times deepened; we did not shy away from our screens or from each other. We adjusted our camera angles and microphones to see and hear better. We asked more questions. We sought advice on how to navigate our small spaces. We talked about our families and our travails. But not too much. More, we kept finding ways to laugh and connect – we shouted out our names! I got comfortable teasing you. We did all this while off-screen the world spun. The Pandemic tore viciously through our lives. Festering boils of Racial Injustice erupted. The metronome of ignorance, greed and political divisiveness droned on. In conditions where we had many damn good reasons not to, we showed up, we adapted, and we got on with the business of learning and practicing.

Amidst great trauma and reckoning we created a profoundly unique container. One that held our fear, our ambiguity, our anxiety, our stress, our vulnerability, our courage. Even people in our school who could not log on – people who were working in health care, in grocery stores, in mental health, those whose lives were consumed off the Moon screen by other screens, still knew in our practice, we had their backs. As brutal as these past three months have been, they have also illuminated our true nature. Yes, we learned to topple mountain ranges, to dodge right and left, to reach into the night sky and grab the big dipper. More essentially however, we learned how to express our bright nature with more vigor. We stayed clear, present and generous. We remained steady. Our container held.

At the beginning of all this I was off to Estes Park to sell my mother’s house. I, like all of you, had my plans derailed in an instant. There is a small opening now; I feel I should take it, so off I go. Ironically it will be over the 4th of July, a holiday mom loved. I have great memories of hanging out at the Stanley Hotel, mom and I weaving our way through tourists and locals alike to grab a hotdog and to listen to the bands set up in front of waving flags. It was corny, it was pure mid-west July 4th kitsch, it was our tradition. There will not be any celebrations this year, but there will be drinking tea, looking out the living room window and watching the clouds transform over Long’s Peak. I look forward to enjoying the view mom loved so much.

I’m glad to get the stalled process going, but I’m also a little scared to leave the container we created over these past three months. It became so strong, with such resiliency, that stepping out of it now feels strange, as if I’m traveling not to home, but away from it. Traveling not to Estes, but out into a vast untethered future. I truly feel that in this random configuration called our lives, all of us were perhaps brought together by a bigger design, to a place we could hold fast together to what is real and authentic. To remind ourselves we were not alone as the waves crashed against us.

I encourage all of you to also take a break. You’ve worked so hard, I have so much respect for you. Enjoy the weather, renew yourself as best you can. Download the recordings, but don’t stress out about watching them. Just tuck them away for future reference. Do please keep practicing so that you keep your blood and qi flowing. This is crucial for our health. And please! Practice outside, in nature. Relax, and enjoy yourselves and keep your body/heart/mind strong and resilient for the next round of the unknown. Because we know this is our life right now and it will be for some time to come. We also know we can rise to whatever circumstances we find ourselves in, with pliancy, grace and love.

As we transition out of Spring session, please allow me a personal note of deep gratitude to each and every one of you. Your enthusiasm and dedication kept me sane and healthy and relevant. I could not have asked for more, so thank you. And again, to Doug, Laura, Karri, Scooter, Nicholas and Michelle, the Moon teachers who did Yeoman’s work right along with me, thank you so much.

Respect, Salute, 10,000 Zillion Thank You’s to all. See you, in one place or another, mid-July.

Big hugs, lots of love,

Kim