Where the Trees End: Embracing the Space Between Light and Fade on Indigenous Peoples Day

10/14/2024

A mid-October morning—I awoke to darkness and am starting to see the more obvious increase of shadow growing on either side of the days. Our region has been graced with more sun to highlight the fading, with both warmth and brisk air—harvest hues with wet and shadow on the horizon.

I'm resonating with the continued evolution fall—what we see in front of us, honing the senses, respecting the visceral—while also expanding our capacity to widen the lens, to sense the space beyond the foreground, the space in which the foreground exists. Last week, I reflected on contentment, patience, and the natural unfolding. This week, I’d like us to explore how we reconnect to the senses and grow our capacity to occupy the vast space that holds the grounds of our experience—housing the sensations, thoughts, and emotions of the present moment. Yes to what is before you, and yes to the container—the space that holds what is before you. We have this beautiful ability, when given a bit of space, to sense the present as it encapsulates all of the past in its current expression of life, while also knowing that this expression is impermanent, destined to fade and dissolve, cycling through as autumn transitions toward more shadow, more night.

In having our human experience, it’s helpful and often more welcome to our nervous systems to start with what’s in front—our physical, direct experience—and then expand further out. Living through the layers from dense to subtle, the koshas, and spanning out toward more reflectivity.

I'll welcome you to come into more embodied curiosity. Lean back a bit in your seat, draw in a few fuller breaths, give a stretch—whatever is called to meet the physical needs of your body. Then, reconnect to your steady seat in an alert and relaxed position, beginning to smooth out your breaths, in and out through your nose if possible.

This Monday marks Indigenous Peoples Day in the US—formerly Columbus Day—and with it, the acknowledgment of the resilience and courage of Indigenous peoples, their deep connection to the land, and their traditions. Indigenous peoples have persevered and shine forth in their wisdom despite centuries of injustice, oppression, and marginalization. There is always more to learn, more to be curious about, and more listening required. I have deep gratitude for what feels like a collective return to nature as teacher, to harmony with the land, and to a renewed advocacy for connection, love, liberation, and an end to unnecessary suffering. May we honor the original stewards of this land and the resilience of their enduring wisdom.

As we tune in, consider: What is in your foreground at present? What makes up the foliage? As we move from sun toward more shadow, from the pitta season to vata in Ayurveda, we see stages of vibrancy—each in its time fading. Each form, each expression encapsulates its history, and we know that on the horizon lies the time of rest, of wintering, and thereafter rebirth will occur. What in us is ready to fade? What with this require of us, in letting go to surrender? There is beauty, vibrancy, and a grief in this process. Can we bring courage to the letting go—not clinging to what once was, nor attaching to the future promise of a returning sun? Can we bravely celebrate the now, living in the liminal space—the fading, the vibrancy, the harvest?

Rainer Maria Rilke reminds us, "Let everything happen to you. Beauty and terror. Just keep going. No feeling is final." And as Rumi extends further, "We are the night ocean filled with glints of light. We are the space between the fish and the moon, while we sit here together."

For me, this work of integration is in reverence to loved ones passed, the potency of grief fading, and the loosening of possessions, while holding heart for my body's resistance. There is an overall knowing that this fading will bring a clearing in mind and heart. We are shaped by our lived experiences—each of us on our path, in our time. I’m loosening my attachment to the last few year's embodied grief that became a lifeline, a lifestyle, as I shift to a new living space requiring tangible downsizing.

From this integration, ever in process, is the energy I’m excited to bring into the creativity of my offerings. Locals, stay tuned for the 3rd annual play and homage for All Hallows Eve Yoga Gathering on November 2nd @ 5:30 PM PST at Yoyoyogi. Additional classes and spaces will absolutely benefit from this energy as well.

As I surrender to this unfolding, with the steadiness of breath and the uncertainty amongst the fading, I practice being in the witness space—from the end of the tree line to remember the space further that meets the sun, filling me with hope. As the light fades, what in us is also fading? Remember that we can be a witness to it all. There is a vastness—space between where our trees end and horizon that expands to the sun.

Like the waves upon the shore, constantly ebbing and flowing, the vastness of the setting sun remains immense. This week, let’s tune our senses, feel into the aliveness of the season, and give heart and reverence to what in us is fading. Let’s trust in the surrender of the senses and give ourselves over to the vast space that comes with shedding.

Here with you in practice. In Love & Light.

-Maya

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