Shifting Space by Desserae Shepston is a community-supported newsletter. I am so grateful to you for stopping by and taking the time to read. If you’d like to receive new posts and support my work, please consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. A paid subscription is just $5/month or $50/year. Adding the Substack app lets you easily join the conversation and participate in the community. And if this post resonates, please feel free to share!
When I am among the trees, especially the willows and the honey locust, equally the beech, the oaks and the pines, they give off such hints of gladness. I would almost say that they save me, and daily. I am so distant from the hope of myself, in which I have goodness, and discernment, and never hurry through the world but walk slowly, and bow often. Around me the trees stir in their leaves and call out, “Stay awhile.” The light flows from their branches. And they call again, “It's simple,” they say, “and you too have come into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled with light, and to shine.” --Mary Oliver
Last Saturday, I went to my second yoga class this month. The second since I hit the road in an RV almost five years ago. The teacher is amazing. It’s an all-level class, with people ranging from their 20s to their 70s, and she handles the differences in skill deftly. She also asks each attendee if there is anything they want to work on in the class, and she seamlessly incorporates poses that address stated desires. It’s impressive and made me feel comfortable immediately, even though I am sorely out of practice and five years deeper into middle age.
But she does something else that I find even more comforting, inspiring, and welcoming. She opens and closes every class with a poem.
As we lay in savasana this week, she read Mary Oliver’s When I am Among the Trees. I’d never heard it before, and it spoke to me, deeply, striking a chord that resonates with where I find myself lately. It’s a pure, simple, clear sound, guiding my path forward to clarity and a sense of direction.
As Renee read the last stanza, my eyes welled up with tears of gratitude.
“and you too have come into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled with light, and to shine.”
That’s it, my friends. That is what we are all here to do. We don’t need to strive to keep up with and impress others. We are light, and we’re meant to shine, each in our own way and for the sheer joy of being.
When I am among the trees, I feel their strength, their peace. I absorb the simplicity of being. I know that I am ok. I know that I have that same strength within me. I know that I can stand tall and firm, while also swaying and bending when the winds blow strong…but not bowing or breaking under the fierce power of storms that blow in.
And pass.
Because they do. And we can either let them break us or let them shape us and give us a depth of character and wisdom we would have otherwise missed out on.
I have been trying to fold more healthy ways of spending time back into my life. But, to do that, I’ve had to pare down my expectations and simplify. You see, when I have a goal in mind (or several, as is usually the case), I tend to think of all I have to do to accomplish the goal.
And I become quickly overwhelmed. So overwhelmed I can’t even think of the first thing to do. My mind becomes a blank page.
So, now, I’m trying not to think so far ahead it causes me to do nothing more than spin my wheels. I don’t need to figure out how to do all the things I see other — more successful — authors doing all at once. I can focus on one thing. And as I get the hang of that one thing, I can take on the next.
It’s funny how my tendency to be impatient still shows up in unexpected ways and thwarts my movement. I think impatient me and procrastinating me somehow work together, but I haven’t figured out how, yet.
This morning, when meditating, the word “declutter” popped into my consciousness. And I knew instantly what it meant.
Declutter my life.
Declutter my mind.
Eliminate distractions.
Make space for creativity, for tending to my well-being, for movement, for joy.
This word is a new focus for how I want to move forward so that I can do more of what I love. It gives direction to movement I have already begun.
This week, I felt the joy of riding my bike for the first time this season, pushing my legs muscles and lungs past their winter comfort zones but reminding myself I could take a steep climb at the end of my ride slowly. This was no race.
I enjoyed walking a neighbor’s dog on the beach and watching the sea lions lounging on the rocks.
I worked on my book for several hours over a few days and ordered my cover design.
I meditated and journaled. Read and soaked up the sun’s rays and sat outside with my cat and walked in the woods.
And I still managed to catch up with grading and get my paid-gig writing done.
It’s a start, and I am curious to see where this turn in my journey will take me, but I will take it one step at a time, taking my cue from the trees and keeping it simple.
Peace and Love-
Desserae
Shifting Space by Desserae Shepston is a community-supported newsletter. I am so grateful to you for stopping by and taking the time to read. If you’d like to receive new posts and support my work, please consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. A paid subscription is just $5/month or $50/year. Adding the Substack app lets you easily join the conversation and participate in the community. And if this post resonates, please feel free to share!
Beautifully written...beautiful pictures!
GREAT read Des - and I have never heard that poem before, and love it. Everything you say deeply resonates with me with regards to impatience and then shutting down with overwhelm. Thank you for the insights and reminder to be gentle with myself...