Safe Harbor: A Year on the North Shore
We watched with excitement and no small amount of trepidation as our island receded into the blue, the gap between past and future growing bigger and wider. Standing on the deck of the Steamship Eagle, I remember feeling lonely and scared but ready too; perched on the precipice of great opportunities and exciting adventures.
This time last year, I had paired down and packed up 12 years of a life well lived at 3 Old South road. I had sold off the last of my paddle boards, donated half my closet to the thrift store, and compressed all that remained into a 900sq foot, 2-bedroom apartment in Amesbury.
A Mainland Mindset
Nantucket is and will always be the place where I home-birthed my son, taught hundreds of people yoga and how to headstand on the water, coached dozens of the island's young ladies to be Strong Girls, won my first mountain bike race, learned how to walk alone in the dark, developed my love of nature and cultivated some of the most meaningful relationships of my life. But it is time to say goodbye.
The Drake Passage
Not three minutes into the single track of the Harkness Conservation Area, I knew I made the right bike selection.
Roots, rocks, logs and millions of slippery leaves covered the path ahead and it took me a while to muster up the confidence necessary for gunning up and over the mix of obstacles. The ride report was spot on, miles 4-16 were hard.
Flower Power
There are times I’d like to throttle my son.
There are times when he’s behavior is so out of lockstep with the way I relate to the world, I question whether we actually share DNA. But more often than not, Griffin’s innate and effortless empathy blows my mind. Even as a toddler, he excelled at comforting others. And despite being occasionally hijacked by hostile hormones, Griffin the teenager is just as sensitive and kind.
The Slow Boat to Maine
When my mother married my dad, she married us into a comedy of errors, that resembled the British sitcom Fawlty Towers. Not unlike the show, my sisters and I grew up in and around the Nesbitt Inn and were witness to a dysfunctional hospitality freak show Netflix could only dream of producing.
My mom and dad moved into and took over running the Inn in 2008. In high season, things often went sideways and mini-dramas unfolded with regularity. My favorite episodes could have had titles like “The Missing Jewels” and “Where’d my Insulin Go?”.
You’re Never too Old to Dance
I’m in a dance studio for the first time in almost 3 decades and I’m being asked to move organically with subtle suggestions set to ambient music.
I SNEAK A PEAK AT MYSELF IN THE MIRROR AND TRY NOT TO CRINGE.
What am I doing? I ask myself. Why did I think this was a good idea?
I am by far the oldest person in the room.
Learning to ride a bike
Life After the Knife
The explanation seemed to continue on for hours. The radiologists’ voices seemed distant and distorted, as if the words came out of their mouths in slow motion. Then, all of a sudden, they disappeared. They went to check on the O.R. and the time space continuum swallowed me up. All I could hear was the thumping of my heart and the loud rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins.
Making the Breast Decision
It’s been 4 months since a core biopsy revealed I have invasive breast cancer. Since then, my days have been chock-full of research and reflection, so I’ve had plenty of time to think about the upcoming July 24th surgery that will theoretically save my life.
Who to Talk to Someone with Cancer
{Originally published on RebelleSociety.com May 15th, 2013}
Bummer. Sounds like you have to talk to someone with cancer. I’m so sorry – for you both! After all, it’s no easy task for either party. Going through this very thing myself, I’d like to help you out with a little cancer context, so that we can put your inevitable dialogue into your loved one’s perspective.
Teach Them Young
I gave birth to Griffin at home, in table pose, on a well-worn yoga mat. We were in front of the fire, in the middle of the living room. The mat was green and helped hold my focus during Griffin’s lighting speed, two-hour delivery.
THE GIFT OF TEACHING YOGA; FAMILY STYLE
I never wanted kids. I never wanted kids and I never wanted to teach Kid’s Yoga. In my teens I was horrified by the over-population of the world, the irresponsibility of “breeders” and the selfishness of adults who wanted to see mini versions of themselves. In my early 20s I found myself ritually annoyed by the stroller take over of my previously hip South Slope neighborhood of Brooklyn. And in my late 20s I was convinced that I might explain my situation as “childless by choice”.
THE DAILY MEDITATION
Let’s be honest. Yoga, like life, is a practice, and I am far from practicing either perfectly. I’ll be the first to admit that I have ridiculously high expectations for myself, and I’m really good at beating myself up when I fall short. I want to be able to do things, most things, (okay, everything) well, if not specatularly well. And when I don’t, which I won’t, because I can’t, I get frustrated and discouraged. And believe me, I know that as a yoga teacher this isn’t exactly politically correct to admit. I’m not supposed to be goal-oriented or ego-driven. In fact, I’m supposed to be non-judgmental, patient and compassionate with everyone, including myself. I’m accepting and understanding of everything, and I embrace all sentient living creatures with equal amounts of love. But let’s be real for a moment? It’s just not that easy.
THE ARTFUL SANKALPA
Sankalpas are intentions, similar to resolutions, and yet quite different. Sankalpas are often positive things we wish to cultivate – like peace, compassion, love, or truthfulness. Resolutions, on the other hand, are often about decreasing something, giving an indulgence up like alcohol, fatty foods, sugar, or TV… sometimes a list of New Years resolutions can feel like punishment, or self-denial.
Body Attachment
This might seem like an obvious statement (most of us are pretty attached), but it’s actually something I’ve been working to let go of for a long, long time. Not my body, the attachment that is. My body comes in real handy when I have to lift the baby from his crib, go to the grocery store, or demonstrate a posture in class. All sorts of spiritual gurus and leaders tout the benefits of practicing non-attachment, but it’s so much harder than anything I’ve worked towards, including my undergraduate degree, passing the NCTMB, learning a solid Chataranga, or even the still-ellusive handstand.