Transition
Want the change. Be inspired by the flame
where everything shines as it disappears.
The artist, when sketching, loves nothing so much
as the curve of the body as it turns away.
What locks itself in sameness has congealed.
Is it safer to be gray and numb?
What turns hard becomes rigid
and is easily shattered.
Pour yourself out like a fountain.
Flow into the knowledge that what you are seeking
finishes often at the start, and, with ending, begins.
Every happiness is the child of a separation
it did not think it could survive. And Daphne, becoming
a laurel, dares you to become the wind.
– Rainer Maria Rilke, Sonnets to Orpehus, Part Two, XII
Dear Friends and Family,
The other day I was riding in a small motorboat with some friends. Around three in the afternoon, the wind kicked up and the waves became choppy. We raced back to the marina because the portion of the Ionian Sea between Kalimos Island and the mainland town of Mytikas was particularly rough; there was a lot of spray. One friend was upset about getting wet but I was invigorated by the rush of oncoming foam and salty air.
At the port in Mytikas, I jumped out of the boat onto solid concrete and noticed how wobbly I felt. My body still carried the rockiness of the journey across the channel and it took several minutes to get my footing and arrive fully at the destination. Transitions are like that. They can be unsteady.
This week I am getting ready to leave our refuge. The land is filled with olive trees, flowering oleander and the scent of night jasmine in the hours right before dawn. The house was built on the site of an old monastery and its view of the Amvrakikos Gulf is perfect for solitude, rest and reflection.
Here I cook eggplant and zucchini from the garden and cut fresh parsley, mint and oregano to add to recipes. I study Greek and attempt to converse with local shop owners in incomplete sentences. Most mornings I drink freddo cappuccinos on the Vonitsa waterfront with my friend Elizabeth. I’ve been here for nearly four months.
Of course, I also study; taking Sanskrit lessons on Zoom and catching up on workshop videos. I teach a little and am hard at work with a consultant to create a new website and fall schedule for BopperYoga. As happy as I am here, I’m also excited to get back to New York, hug my daughters, visit friends and open the studio for regular classes.
In meditation I contemplate how to bring this peace and quietude back to the stimulation and fast-pace of the city. Will the passage be shaky like our ship the other day or tranquil like the gulf is when I go out with my paddleboard?
In yoga pose terms, it’s a lot like going from Warrior 1 to Warrior 3 or Triangle to Half Moon and back again. The transition can be calm or shaky…even frenzied. Each moment between the postures is both dependent on the moment before and a new opportunity for harmony. Each inhale creates the possibility of an exhale. Each exhale depends on the quality of the inhale. Stillness, the yoga, is touched briefly between the two.
Thinking about my return trip, I found Rilke’s sonnet particularly instructive, seek to find the beginning in the finish and the finish in the start.
It is here, in Greece, that Daphne, the sweet freshwater nymph, became the laurel. And, the bay laurel and oleander here are called daphne.
Daphne became a tree to escape the unwanted passion of Apollo, a God associated with truth, prophecy and healing. Apollo never forgot his love of Daphne and used the laurel tree’s fragrant leaves to make wreaths for athletes, poets and musicians.
The streams begat the goddess, the goddess begat the tree, the tree begets the leaves and flowers. The leaves and flowers become signs of accomplishment. The flowers and leaves soon fade and fall. They return to the earth and fertilize it so life can begin again.
In this endless cycle of creation, sustenance and transition we are challenged to flow like a fountain and ride the waves.
With lots of love,
Brette