About 2 years ago I was reading Rod Stryker’s book “The Four Desires: Creating a Life of Purpose, Happiness, Prosperity, and Freedom”.  One of the tasks in it is to write a sankalpa (a yogic idea of achieving a goal along our path within our dharma code).  This is what I wrote:

We have moved as a family to Nanaimo, and we are all flourishing under the care and support of a loving community.

About 6 months earlier than that, I had been off for a week of immersion in Anusara yoga on the Greek island of Paros, and during a guided meditation I found myself feeling with clarity, that the next place for us was to move to where my sister was on Vancouver Island – Nanaimo.  The feeling was one of being at home, having arrived.

So two and half years later it isn’t surprising that this move is finally happening, but it brings with it fear, joy, sadness, excitement and so much more.  The irony was not lost on me that the week I chose to deal with the concept of fears in my classes(see my blog post on it here) was the very week we would find out that we had been granted permits to work in Canada.  The Universe works in great ways, doesn’t it?

It is nothing short of nerve wracking to have the Universe put the very thing you ask for on your plate.  What have I wished for? What will I do now?  How will I leave all that we have created for ourselves here as a family?  As ready as I thought I was, having concrete news has churned up so much emotion in the last week since we found out.  What I am swimming in is the murky waters of joy and sorrow that Kahlil Gibran speaks of so eloquently:

Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter’s oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.

Some of you say, “Joy is greater than sorrow,” and others say, “Nay, sorrow is the greater.”
But I say unto you, they are inseparable.
Together they come, and when one sits, alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.

Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.
Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.
When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.

These words have seen me through a number of big transitions in my life, and this one will be no exception.  I am deeply torn to think of leaving the community we have helped build and been a part of for these past 9 years.  I am scared to start over and leave the safe womb of work that I have created here, with such beautiful wide open students/clients/friends who have made my work truly my joy. These are the things that I will have to carry forward in my heart, simply imagining that my heart will grow bigger and more full with each big leap I am asked to take.  A wise woman said to me once: the door wouldn’t have opened if it wasn’t what the universe wanted for you.  And I believe this is true.

When you say good bye to so many people it can feel sometimes like the little bits of your heart are strewn across the world.  In some ways this is true.  In another way each piece that is elsewhere is filled by a piece of someone else’s heart, and so mine has gotten so much bigger, so much fuller, just as my life has with all you wondrous people in it.