How Does One Integrate All the Roles One Plays?

Holding many threads with care and attention

One would think being semi-retired would mean slowing down a bit. And yes, it does. And no, it doesn’t.

It does because I’m not teaching regular yoga classes right now, and that feels very good. It doesn’t because other things that have always been part of my life, often squeezed in or squeezed out, are now filling my plate.

These are all good things. Still, I find myself sorting out how to integrate them into a life, rather than letting them run my life.

Poetry.
I’m trying to submit my work more faithfully to literary journals. Publishing poetry is largely a numbers game. There are thousands of people sending poems out into the world, often to the very same magazines. It can take months to hear back, especially from print journals. And while I’m not likely to become a famous poet, it’s deeply affirming to share your work and know it’s being read. This week, I had a poem accepted by Autumn Sky Poetry Daily, and that felt quietly wonderful. Click HERE to read, “Sorting My Husband’s Belongings.”

Teaching.
I’ve subbed a few yoga classes over the past couple of weeks. It reminded me why I loved teaching yoga in the first place. It also reminded me that I’m not quite ready to return to a weekly class. That’s okay. I still love teaching, and right now my energy is leaning toward writing. I have a few opportunities coming up, including the Write Your Story Retreat at the end of February. There are five spaces still open, and I would love to gather with you in my apartment as we explore our stories together.

Then there’s dancing, my new favorite hobby! No pictures to show you yet, but I’ll take one for you soon. My instructor is cute as a button and at 21, he’s been dancing all his life. It’s like dancing with my grandson, which I hope to do before long.

And grandma-ing.

And making videos for the Living Yoga course, which will be ready for you soon.

All of it feels like a gentle invitation rather than a demand. An invitation to slow the pace just enough to listen. To notice what’s asking to be integrated rather than managed. To let the different threads of life speak to one another.

That’s the spirit of the Write Your Story Retreat at the end of February. Three days to step out of the daily current, sit together, and listen more closely to the stories we’re carrying. Not to fix them or polish them, but to give them space, curiosity, and care.

If you’re feeling that quiet nudge to pause, to write, to be in honest conversation with yourself and others, you’d be very welcome here. I’d love to share this time with you.

And even if the retreat isn’t for you right now, I hope this season offers you moments of settling. A softening in the shoulders. A deeper, easier breath. The sense of your feet on the floor as you move through your days.

This slowing down and not slowing down is something I feel in my body before I understand it in my mind. It’s a practice of listening, of responding with care, of letting life be lived from the inside out.

I’m learning my way through it. I’m glad you’re here with me.