In October, my publisher started reading the draft of the memoir I had submitted, and I interrupted her with a blurty and intrusive phone call, desperate that the book she was reading was not supposed to be my first book.
Even though it isn’t a thing that publishers do, she met me right where I was, and said I could certainly try to write another book, but she needed it January 1st, 2020, kind-of-no-matter-what.
When I hit send on the draft, I felt this strange momentum in me that wanted to keep going. Maybe it was inspiration or 38 years of sleep deprivation, but also it may have been that I enjoyed the dedicated time to write. This momentum wanted to schedule out 2020 all at once, so that I could take July and December to write two more books.
I drew this calendar – every day of the year, with the objective to teach 20 Learn to Teach Yin trainings in 2020, while also writing two books, launching a 300 hour YTT, and learning how to climb. Previously, I had always scheduled a quarter in advance, and tried to schedule if and when I could, frequently without breaks or a sense of self.
By February 8th, the calendar was full. I had 20 trainings booked, July and December blocked. I was so proud. It was adorable. Because (**spoiler**) as you know, on the other side of the globe, the pandemic was also gaining momentum. February 13th I hugged my parents with a sense of forboding. February 28th I held my final dinner party. March 12th I led my final Learn to Teach Yin, and drove home instead of going to the book signing I was supposed to attend, where I would magically run into Glennon Doyle in the bathroom and she would offer to blurb my forthcoming book. (Possibly fantastical, but it was her book signing, so not impossible). March 14th, Colorado hit the hard freeze of the pandemic, and everything evaporated. Yin dropped into the icebox. I would like to write you the 10 Things I Wish I Had Done during the pandemic, because I occasionally lapse into the belief that I am slightly more valuable if I’m productive.
Instead, because I’m honest, here’s what really happened.
1. I stopped practicing.
2. I stopped teaching.
3. I stopped reading books about yin or yoga or philosophy.
4. I stopped wearing yoga pants.
5. I stopped writing blogs for yoga teachers.
6. I stopped writing new curriculum.
7. I stopped having new ideas.
8. I stopped thinking about marketing.
9. I stopped planning.
10. I stopped.
Can you relate?
I went from full go to full stop, and maybe your life went a different way. But if you stopped and you’re ready, or if you went “full go” and are ready to introduce some slow practice, or if you had another method of coping through a global pandemic and want to connect anyway… I’m starting up again.
I started practicing on April 1st. I started teaching June 1st. I have located my minimalist trove of joy-bringing yoga pants. I’m having ideas. I’m planning. Join me?