What if you’re already ‘there’?
I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve uttered the words “I’ll get there”.
Picking up the pieces after a broken relationship. A damaging relationship… “I’ll get there.”
The days following a missed miscarriage, dragging my empty body through the motions of ‘get up, get dressed, drink water, eat food’… “I’ll get there.”
The days following the second, third, fourth, fifth missed miscarriage… “I’ll get there.”
The months I spent fuelled by cortisol and caffeine, in a state of fight or flight, working 80 hour weeks and not seeing my 1-year-old daughter… “I’ll get there.”
Of course, it’s also as simple as being told by a yoga teacher to keep practising because “one day you’ll get there” (‘there’ being a headstand, an arm balance or any other pretzel-like position my body refused to entertain).
I remember during my yoga teacher training, back in 2014, we spent many an hour studying adjustments and modifications. A student’s practice could then focus on being ‘here’ in the pose, whatever it looks like for them, rather than aiming to be ‘there’ in that pose, how it looks for somebody else.
Isn’t this true for our lives? How would it feel to be here in this moment, whatever it looks like for you, rather than aiming for something else — to be thinner or stronger, to have more responsibility, more wealth, more possessions… how it may look for somebody else.
Now, I’m not suggesting we reject goals, dreams and aims in life. I’m a planner. Planning is something I embrace on a daily basis. But the moment we wish away the days, count down to a life we hope to get, convince ourselves we can’t be happy because we’re not ‘there’ yet… the moment we do this, we lose the precious moments we have on this planet. The precious moments we have with the people we love. The precious and so simple moments that fill our days with smiles.
Picking up the pieces after a broken relationship. A damaging relationship… I was already there. ‘There’ was in the Friday night yoga classes, the freedom, the quiet, the holiday on my own, the marathon training.
The days following my first missed miscarriage… I was already there. The sun shone on the day of my surgery. Friends and family sent such lovely messages. I felt supported. I felt loved.
The days following the others… I was already there. I found stillness. Strength. A deeper knowing that I would be ok. The pain and devastation were still there but there were also smiles and even laughter.
The treadmill of work stress and anxiety… You guessed it, I was already there. A moment waiting for my train to London at 6 am, listening to the birds, looking at the moon in the sky and realising how vast and beautiful the world is. A conversation with a teenager at school — their humour, their spark, their complexity, their awesomeness. The moment I’d get to hold my daughter and feel ourselves breathe together.
…
Let’s go a bit deeper. What do all these experiences have in common?
Despite my grief, loneliness, stress and sadness, all these moments brought me back to something that was already and always within me. A safe and welcoming stillness and strength that’s always ‘there’. It’s always ‘there’ for me to be with whenever I need it.
That’s where meditation takes us — it takes us right back home to the pure, innocent, perfect stillness and strength of ‘being’.
Where did I think ‘there’ was?
A literal destination.
A sense of completion.
A goal or achievement.
A feeling of being happy or content.
A job change.
A promotion.
A baby.
A recovery.
A love life.
A business.
A home.
So many ‘theres’.
So have your goals, have your dreams, have your hopes, make your plans.
But, don’t let that take away the moments of beauty, stillness and strength that are always ‘there’ now. Always within you.
The next time your voice says “I’ll get there”.
Remember, you’re already ‘there’.
