Inward and Upward
by Cara Chang Mutert
Sunday mornings have an air of calm creativity for me. Maybe because the week is done, the house is quiet, and the new week has not quite yet started. It’s my favorite day to start slow, sit back for a bit, watch my thoughts and feelings, and if the urge strikes, write.
Finding, discovering, creating, refining, and re-discovering the things that bring you comfort and fulfillment is such a big part of life. In yoga, we talk about finding contentment, learning acceptance, revealing what brings you joy, experiencing what is, remembering to be grateful for life’s blessings as well as gleaning the lessons from life’s painful dings.
Through the solitary hours of this difficult year, we’ve all had time to be with ourselves a lot more. To think about what it is that really feeds us, and what makes life worth living. After the loss of my father this year, I’ve tried to be really cognizant of how my family is managing the grief of losing such an influential figure and guiding force in our lives.
I’ve found myself writing more. I’ve watched my mother play the piano for hours on end. I’ve listened to my kids sing, play and create more music. I’ve observed my daughter lovingly tend to her plants and my son disappear into 1200-page fantasy novels. And I’ve seen my husband reach out to connect with more people who need help. These are all mechanisms to help us cope with the loss, fill the void, and ease the pain. Just as importantly, they are also the conduit to remembering who we are and the yearnings that lie deep within us.
With the time I’ve had to ponder life, loss, and impermanence this year, I’m beginning to understand the one thing that does persist in our lives. It’s love. I know, it sounds cheesy. Believe me, the cynic on my left shoulder is bristling a bit. But as I mourn my father leaving this earth, I realize what I still have left of him is the deep love and great admiration that I still carry with me in my heart.
Like so many who have lost loved ones this year, I have found that my father’s passing has left me reflecting on my own life. In sifting through all the old photos of my family this year, I’ve spent a good amount of time wondering what it is that really defines me. Not what I do, or what I’ve done or achieved, but who I am (svadhyaya). When we are young, we often try to formulate our identity from an external perspective by imagining what we look like to others, how we present ourselves and how others perceive us. But as we age, it becomes more complex. In witnessing my father’s physical body transform through the decades while his mind remained amazingly intact, and in observing my own face and body change over the years, the question has become even more compelling.
Although the answer has not yet completely crystalized, I think I’ve come to gain a more clear understanding. Who we are is the creativity that comes from within and can be expressed without. Whether it’s through art, music, yoga, dance, nature, gardening, photography, designing, building, reading, writing, learning, or helping others, the things that feed us are all expressions of our soul. It is literally the key to what we hold in our hearts. And if we can muster the courage, we can share that truth (satya) in hopes of a deeper connection with others.
As this year finally comes to a close and we look ahead to a few more months of nestling in and opportunities for quiet introspection, remember what it is that fuels your spirit. Take the time to reconnect with what it is that fills your life. I plan to continue to look inward so I can expand outward, which will give me strength to move onward and journey upward.
Here’s to 2021 :)