Sometimes I just look at my children when they first wake up in the morning. And sometimes, they’ve changed. When they were little babies, it was a daily occurrence. Now, it isn’t so fast. I don’t know if it happens gradually and I don’t notice it until it reaches a certain level of change, or maybe there are just some transitions that literally take place overnight, but I declare that sometimes my children are different people in the morning.
And then, in my motherly way, I mourn the loss of whoever they were before, and celebrate the coming of whoever they are now becoming.
At the end of each yoga class, as everyone sinks into savasana, we go into the breath like that.
With every inhale, we are being given what we need to carry on. With every exhale, we are giving back what we no longer need. This is how we carry on. This is how we grow. Receiving and giving back. Breath after breath, for the duration of our lives. Relax into it. Observe it.
I wonder, if I took the time to look in the mirror in the morning and see more than the lines on my forehead and the white hairs blowing wild and free, if I might find that I have sometimes grown and changed in unexpected ways as well. But then, it isn’t the bathroom mirror that will show me those changes – it’s the inner reflection.
It doesn’t get polished with windex. Maybe with that nice long breath, instead.