Dancing With Transitions

There's a subtle shift in the air. A crispness that wasn’t here a few weeks back.

The nudging of one season towards another.

The whispers of change. 

Summer ending and it's hard for me to let her go.

As a sun-and-heat-loving-person it happens every year.

Anticipating shorter days, darker mornings, change in light with the sun lower in the sky.

I struggle.

I want to put off the inevitable.

It started me thinking about change. 

And specifically, the moment change “lands”.

I am no longer anticipating it. I am in it.

The undeniable, lightbulb-moment when a threshold is crossed and I know I am in new territory.

And feel it with my whole being.

In that moment I can feel

Excited, joyful, fuelled.

Energised by meeting the new and moving forward.

Sadness and a grief, of letting go.  

Of time left behind.

Fear of what may lay ahead.

A mix of feelings that come all at once.

Times of change and transition can be, confusing and overwhelming.

 Honouring the Transition

We step across hundreds even thousands of thresholds every day. 

Mostly we move through them easily, pragmatically.

A means to an end.

Mostly on autopilot, not fully noticing.

Think: washing dishes, folding laundry, replying to e-mails,

Each made up of tiny micro thresholds: movements, steps, decisions

And we are of course ok with that, (so long as everything goes to plan!)

Then there are the times when change and transition are bigger.

Go deeper.

The type that stops us in our tracks and ask us to pay attention.

They take us out of our familiar.

What we know and take for granted.

We feel them intensely.

Grieving the loss of a loved one, starting a new job, parenthood, meeting illness or injury,  

Meeting our changing and aging selves.

The truth is Life takes us where it knows we need to go. 

Each shift asks us to forage from the experience and knowledge we have.

Leave what we no longer need.

Pack loads of curiosity, breathe, take the next step.

Stay trusting in Life.

As we meet each moment without certainty of what lays ahead.

And that is both awesome, humbling and a tad scary.

Practicing as an explorer

I love to think of myself as a harvester.

Harvesting from the learnings and wisdom I have grown.

The fruits of many “AHA” moments and breakthroughs along the way.

All I have woken up to in my 66 years so far, (about myself, another). 

It opens a doorway of possibility.

The juicy abundant harvest nourishing and informing my next steps.

When I agree to listen!

My yoga and my Feldenkrais practice are my way into a different listening

And an ever-present anchor.

And even more so in times of change and flux.

Both offer a fertile ground for noticing, welcoming and embracing change.

Every time I come to my mat or lie on the floor as part of my practice,

I am researching and exploring transition.

Attuning to the subtlety and delicacy of tiny transitional moments.

Moving down to the floor is itself, an action comprised of many small transitional spaces.

Transitional weight shift, patterns of movement, spacial orientation, co-ordination…

Being present to these moments I notice myself.

How it feels to move a certain way.

In certain directions.

What I meet through my movement.

I can slow down, make choices.

It takes me out of my automatic pilot state.

Asks me to cultivate a different quality of attention and listening.

Each time I lie on the floor to rest (during my practice) I am also noticing difference,

Registering change. 

Attuning to it.

Softening to it.

Enjoying it through the lens of curiosity.

Of not knowing what I might meet.

Accepting of it.

In my practice and in my teaching, I become an explorer.  

Like all explorers I do the groundwork.

Prepare for all known eventualities.

Take with me what I know.

And like all explorers, stay present and open to meet the unexpected’

And the awe in discovery. 

Growing Our Curiosity

This is where the real magic lives – in cultivating curiosity about our own experience.

Instead of rushing through transitions or trying to control them,

What if we approached them as gentle explorers? 

What if we asked: What am I noticing?

What am I discovering in this in-between space?

The Art of Self-Care

This kind of gentle curiosity is a precious gift to yourself.

Showing up for yourself.

Honouring and staying attuned to yourself.

In the messy, uncertain, beautiful moments of change.

It is part of our self-care.

When we bring this quality of attention to our transitions (both on the mat and in life), 

everything becomes richer, more textured, more alive.

More uniquely and vulnerably who we are.

We can begin to see that the space between where we've been and where we're going.

isn't empty or scary.

But full of possibility.

So, as we move from summer's expansiveness into autumn's contemplative embrace,

I invite you to honour your own transitions.

Gather the goodness you've experienced.

Notice what you're ready to release.

To put down and not carry any more.

And most importantly

Stay curious about the magnificent, ever-changing person you are becoming.

After all, we're not just moving through poses or seasons – we're dancing with life itself.

I would love to hear your thoughts

With love

Ruth 

For those of you who like to journal or just reflect further….

What has this summer given you? 

What have you valued?

What have you discovered?

What has been hard?

What has challenged you to your core?

What will you bring with you?

What are you ready to release?

And why not book a mindful replenishing yoga class to see how it makes you feel?

Please reach out with any questions - we’re here to help you feel welcome and supported every step of the way. We look forward to seeing you on the mat in Forest Row.