Last week I did something I thought I would never do.
I set up a Google calendar.
Prior to this, I had always loved the old school paper diary. I’d take great joy in using textas to colour code my schedule. My brain, with its synesthesia, loves to “see” my weeks ahead.
But in the last month I’ve started teaching across 5 different studios in Nipaluna (you can check out my in-person schedule here), plus online classes, plus privates, plus covers here and there…
It was becoming ridiculous and, approximately 18 years late to the party, I caved to the modern digital calendar.
To my utmost surprise, I am loving it.
Though I try to spend as little time dissociating on my phone as I can, I can barely believe how handy dandy this little gadget is for managing my time.
Here I am, marvelling at the pocket computer I carry with me everywhere, and I find myself asking people “did you know?? you can keep all your plans organised right in here??” like some sort of time traveller from the 80s.
I’m not sure whether it’s my Virgo Rising “coming home” this astrological season, or the sudden appearance of several grey hairs on my head, but I’m reflecting on the phenomenon of time.
Is time even real or did we just make it up?
How does it warp? And why does time seem to speed up as we get older?
How can we make the best use of our time (*deletes Instagram*)?
And in the same breath –
How can we live in the moment, allowing time to pass without feeling like we’re in a rush?
After all, nature takes it time, and everything still gets done.
I’ve been chanting to Kālī this week, whose name comes from the Sanskrit word kāla, which means time. It also means death. Ponder that one…
Kālī teaches both the importance of using our precious time wisely, and being patient. Two things I surmise we’re not the best at in 2024.
Kālī also delivers difficult lessons. Irritations, if you will.
When an oyster shell is irritated by a grain of sand it has two options. Either attempt to eject the sand again and again (causing further irritations), or keep the sand, and turn it over and over again. With enough time, and sitting with the discomfort, the oyster eventually transforms the sand into a pearl; one of the most beautiful and precious commodities in this world.
So perhaps this is the key to making good use of our time. Rather than wasting it away on attempting to remove every nuisance in our life, allowing some of it to be there. And rather than working against it, work with it to create something delightful and unexpected.
There will never be the perfect environment in which to meditate. There will never be the perfect time to return to your āsana practice. There will never the perfect time to do teacher training.
The best day was yesterday and the second best day is today.
If you wait for the perfect conditions, you may never start at all.
Do the thing.
You are ready.
Roll with the grain of sand and start now.
You are the oyster and there is a whole world for you to discover.
Check out Teacher Training here.
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