I’m days away from turning 41. Some mornings I awake heavy and stiff. A lot of mornings I rise before the sun, slip out of bed, lace up my running shoes and head off into the night to watch the first rays of sun light the sky.
It is in these quiet moments of transition that I am transported. I both find my feet and myself. I am arriving and departing. I am growing older- sometimes stiff and sometimes flexible. As I run I think about how the sun rises- dipping in to interrupt night, reminding us all to start again. Some days the tears fall when I recognize both this beginning and ending of time. My life patterns changing shape to listen more closely to the moment. Inviting you each in to my morning moment here today in Sydney, just off the coast of Bondi Beach.
These days my work life takes me into women’s and youth prisons, I also work as a Mind/Body Coach and have led yoga practices in some of the world’s most stunning locations. Always a teacher and a student. Today, my oldest daughter, circles the sun one more time and enters 12 years on planet Earth. As I walk towards 41 years, I can’t help but think about evolution.
How in my teens I never imagined that working inside prisons would be a calling, a service, a gateway. How giving birth was something I never believed my body could do. How raising a child, or children, or a pet seems endlessly impossible. Until you’re doing it, walking the walk, surviving and reveling in moments of thriving.
It’s only recently that words and language are finding me more and more. For so many years my body was my place of discovery- running, yoga, childbirth. My body spoke before language found me. These days I’m preparing to write a memoir, writing more, reflecting more, and creating more space for stillness. In these quiet moments, I find myself reaching back and forward. In a recent article by Dr.Rae Johnson, she says:
“The language of the body is sensation, not words.”
This struck me as something beautiful, that are bodies are maps for all the beautiful and tumultuous things we hold. Our emotions become our compass, and if we are lucky enough language finds us. I love unpacking these pieces, the nerd in me. If this interests you, consider booking a mind/body session with me where we can dig in. The world is a topsy turvy place- we all need tools to allow us to BE. To be centered, to be grounded, to remember how to be mindful in partnerships, to allow us to parent better, to remember our bodies as sacred vessels.
Over the years I've gathered practical, tangible tools that have allowed me to practice greater presence in my life. My goal is to share these with you so that you might add them to your own toolbox and call on them when the shit hits the fan. Together, we will find a rhythm and flow that is unique to you.
As my daughters grow up, and I grow up I’m reminded of how many times people have asked, “How old do you feel?” Maybe our age reflects not just our wisdom or life experience but are willingness to look both back and forward. To say yes when we mean it, and to make space for no. Maybe age allows us to refine and define who we are at our core.
In my teens I remember staying in an abusive relationship long after I knew I should. I wanted to help him, save him, support him. I wrote this piece (*content warning: the piece below speaks to domestic violence) in a recent class. My hope in sharing it, is that is allows you to walk towards your own light, no matter your age, race, or gender. As Ram Dass reminds us, “We’re all just walking each other home.”
I clench my fist and remember making contact with his face-
the sound
the relief the scream that flew out of my lungs
the sweat that poured down my face.
Days later caressing my neck in front of the mirror-
the marks
the bruises
the color that was not mine,
and completely mine.
Turning my head from side to side-
Was this me?
If it was, I didn’t recognize her.
My sad eyes
would not
could not
change him
into someone he was not.
As much as I believed, loved, begged, and willed him to be so.
I took my fist and held it in the light
watching the shadows bounce down my arm and across my face
the one standing in the shadows was me
her I recognized.
I stepped closer to the mirror and kissed my face
imagining what love might feel like.
I kissed this girl back to life
until the shadows fell away
and all that was staring back at me was
light.
-Nikki