Over the last three months (which may have felt like three decades), this question has come up in many different ways. With time, there’s undoubtedly been shifts in our responses to this question. Stages of denial, grief, challenge, relief, repose, isolation, connection… we’ve witnessed a myriad of experiences within ourselves and others that we may not have felt so strongly for a long time. Or… ever.
That can be pretty uncomfortable. Anything new can be uncomfortable at first.
As the year draws to a close, it seems that so many of us- intentionally or not- move into reflective practices. This can be a potent energy to ride as the majority of our society gathers collectively at the precipice of transition. It is a sacred space- much like sunrise or sunset- where we are not defined by day or night. It’s a space where we linger in-between definitions of what seems so concretely real and entertain the possibilities of that reality being altered. It is a void which invites possibility.
And as many renew their intentions- attempts to catalyze alterations in reality- I wonder why it is that many of us struggle to see this change through. As with most philosophical questions and cerebral musings, I turn to the body- to my physical practice- to guide me toward truth. After all, the body never lies.
Kevin Yee-ChanManifest: make less change, make more space.
At yet another point of transition- as summer draws to a close and fall waits to descend in the northern hemisphere- I look back at the stories I have collected; I look back at all of the events that have transpired to bring me where I am in this very moment. These cycles let me rediscover tales of my childhood, those of my parents, their parents, and theirs before them. I revisit the stories of my teachers and attempt to trace them back to where they came from: a never ending journey into time immortal.