Thank You For Bringing Me Here

Ok, I have a confession to make. I do yoga. I love yoga. I couldn't be a teacher in urban education without yoga. In the past two years, yoga has been my respite. Since Nate's passing, I've needed it more than ever. Previously, I hid my love for yoga because I didn't want to be the mid-30s white lady who waxed on about her yoga practice. But in the past 3 months, yoga has saved me. So there you have it. Namaste.

*Phew*

Now that we have that covered, I can tell you about my yoga class last week. My favorite yoga teacher has been on maternity leave since January. She started teaching a couple classes last month but I could never make it. Last week, I finally joined her class on Saturday morning. She always teaches yoga in a way that makes me feel weak and strong at the same time. Sure enough, in my first class with her since December, she did the same.

As we were bending and strengthening in all sorts of ways, she told us a story. There is this guy who, every time he visits a new place, he says "Thank you for bringing me here." Yes! I thought. I will do that when I go to France! "Thank you for bringing me to vineyards. Thank you for bringing me to pristine beaches. Thank you for brining me to FRANCE!"

So, I've tried it out this week. Pre-France. Here's what I have.

The Boston Public Library
I've checked out 11 books (I added more to my summer reading list!) so far this week. Granted, some are picture books so they take little time to consume. I stopped by the BPL Tuesday to pick them up. I had a 20 minute chat with a person who is struggling in life right now. I am so thankful that there is a place where anyone can get free books. I am thankful for a space in our country that feeds everyone's minds and keeps people safe. If you live in a home or on the street - the library is a godsend.

PRINCIPAL HOWE?! OMG! (From Iggy Peck, Architect)

Thank you for bringing me Sherman Alexi and Yuyi Morales

Writing
One morning this week I was perusing the twittersphere. I came upon a tweet by middle grade author Kate Messner. For the past two summers, she and other authors have hosted a virtual camp for teachers and writers. Aptly named Teachers Write, this is a free space where teachers and authors meet to write, ask questions, and support each other. Whether you are gathering ideas for the classroom or working on your own piece of writing, this is a supportive community. And did I mention it is free??  Camp started this past Monday. I signed up and have spent time every day working on a novel of my own.

Tuesday we were given the writing challenge to take 100 steps and write about what we saw when we got there. I did just this but before I started writing, I said "Thank you for bringing me here." And then I chuckled because I didn't even make it to the end of my block. I am thankful for writing.

100 steps from my door. Big Fish Little Fish Pet Store

But wait, there's more...
There's another part of my yoga story I have not told you yet. What if, my instructor pondered, we were to say the same thing to all moments in our life. And not just easy, wonderful, glorious, France moments. What if, upon encountering a terrible situation, we were to stop and think, "Thank you for bringing me here." The challenge being to see what we can be grateful for in a not so nice situation.

This is the moment I started crying during yoga. Because of course I thought about losing Nate. My sister-in-law Brandy has provided me with so many words of encouragement. I can see her learning to embrace her greatest loss and she has spiritual guidance helping her through this. I don't know if I can bring myself there yet. I don't know if I can say "thank you" for bringing me to know such grief. My tears were the fear that it might never come just as much as the fear that it might come.

While I am still working through saying thank you for that moment, I did embrace another tough thank you.

Running
On the day Nate died, my sister Jessie and I were running through the streets of Boston with a running group. My dad called mid-run and when, crying, he told me the news, it felt like I hit a wall. We curled up in a ball, half a mile away from the Boston Marathon finish line, and sobbed on the sidewalk. After what seemed like forever and the blink of an eye, we got up, held hands, and ran to the car so we could get on an airplane to go home.

My first run after that was painful - both physically and emotionally. But then we started training for a 10k and setting that goal helped ease me back into running. I want to be clear - I hate running. I know it is good for me and it helps that Jessie pushes me to do it.

This past Sunday was the 10k. (That is 6 miles, in case you didn't know. Six long freakin miles.) Saturday night we were 99% sure we weren't going to run. We even celebrated knowing, as they say, "when to fold em" with chili-cheese dogs and beer for dinner. Alas, at 6:30 am the next morning, Jessie was ready to get going.

As we ran past the spot where we first learned about Nate, I quietly said "Thank you for bringing me here." And then, after 1 hour and 5 minutes of running, Jessie and I held hands as we crossed the finish line. While we may not be ready to get past the emotional wall, we certainly ran past a place that holds so much tragedy. And I am thankful for the hard work it took to get there. And I am thankful for my sister for holding my hand when I need her to.

5 minutes before the race and we are still skeptical

Finished! Thanks to Jason for the photo evidence!

This week, my friends, try it out. Take some time in France moments and in 10k moments, to say "Thank you for bringing me here." We might not be ready to say thank you for all the moments, but something worth trying.