My mother insists that I was meant to be born on the Fourth of July.
However since her doctor had planned a golf vacation for that weekend and I was already way past her due date, my birth was induced on July 2nd instead.
Frankly, I think this accounts for my life-long feeling of being slightly out-of-time, both way ahead in the game and simultaneously desperately behind.
I’ve also felt some greater affinity with July 4th lately, perhaps because of this strange zeitgeist where so many of our basic rights are being challenged.
Perhaps that’s why I’ve found myself looking deeply at one of the most fundamental principles celebrated in the holiday.
Namely, FREEDOM, the subject of this month’s new meditation HERE.
Last Sunday, the workshop I taught for Seva––a charity whose mission is “Transforming Lives By Restoring Vision“––felt like a triumph, albeit one with challenges.
(…Those I may share later, but pictures HERE…)
My students were universally fantastic, though, ranging from flexible yoga connoisseurs to super-stiff dudes from the dog park.
One of the uniqueness of the workshop is that we spent some significant stretches of it blindfolded.
Balancing poses like Tree that are usually quite accessible, even entirely effortless, suddenly become quite challenging.
It’s often shocking how much we rely on clues from the outside environment, even when they’re really not necessary.
Years ago, I began closing my eyes more and more in class, realizing that what was going on inside was much more interesting (and distracting) than anything orbiting around me.
It deepened my practice immensely, even though sometimes the effect is disorienting.
Working with this, in the workshop I wanted to share how closing your eyes as you flow dramatically increases your freedom to explore something that’s all to easy to ignore: your own vast inner landscape.
Of course, Freedom has to come with restrictions.
While the standard example limiting freedom of speech is always that you can’t yell “Fire!” In a crowded theater, I think what’s often more telling are the restrictions we self-impose.
Here’s something I wrote on the topic in my book Upward Dog:
“For several years I taught one of the most advanced yoga classes in New York City, called ‘Cosmic Play.’
What made “Cosmic Play” so unique was that having taught something quite specific and given several challenging variations, I would then more or less encourage students to “play” with the ideas I offered on their own in whatever shapes they wished — a “freestyle” section of the class, as it were.
Interestingly, these moments of freedom were perhaps the most advanced aspect of the class.
Some students who would bravely attempt any physical challenge whatsoever in my other classes would be utterly stymied by the idea of improvisation, of coloring outside the lines.
They were exiting their comfort zone and risked being awkward and graceless.
Simply put, they were so focused on “Getting It Right” that not only hadthey lost the joy of exploring, they were also stumped when asked to be even marginally creative or playful.”
Indeed, if we’ve starved ourselves too long, too heady a dose of Freedom can lead to paralysis.
Here’s the kind of Freedom I want more of, via the great Mary Oliver:
“I believe in kindness.
Also in mischief.
Also in singing,
especially when singing
is not necessarily prescribed.”
And yet as much as I treasure these lines, encountering this phenomenon in real life is not always easy.
For example, Vlad’s astrological type in the Human Design system is extremely rare.
He’s a self-projected projector––just like Barbra Streisandactually––who can only discover his truth via the process of self-expression.
This results in him being the most vocally expressive dog I’ve ever encountered, one who fully delights in “singing when singing is not necessarily prescribed.”
Sometimes it’s a bit much, but mostly his relationship with his own freedom(vocal and otherwise) is inspiring.
Speaking of holidays…
New Year’s Eve can be wonderful (albeit potentially annoying and overwhelming), but nonetheless I really do love the idea of a fresh start.
And it’s delightful that you can also opt-in for other new beginnings in February for Chinese New Year or September for Rosh Hashanah
Let me offer you another possibility as well.
Today–depending on when you’re reading this––is July 2nd.
It’s the exact midpoint of the year.
Why not use this as a moment to take stock and reevaluate, then move forward refreshed and renewed?
A mid-year New Year, if you will…
Allow the arbitrariness of our calendar to offer you one of freedom’s great gifts: the chance to begin again, whenever and wherever you like.
Unlike Vlad, I have to remind myself of my freedom quite often.
It’s easy to feel chained to my desk, not even dimly aware that I’m the one who forged and fashioned those chains in the first place.
Like Nina Simone––and Andra Day and even John Legend––I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to Be Free.
(Allow me to gift you with a Spotify playlist of some of my favorite versions of that great Civil Rights anthem HERE.)
Anyway, all of this has culminated in Vlad and me hopping into a rental car today and hitting the open road for a birthday field trip.
I’ve deliberately decided to celebrate this Solar Return Flâneur-style, aiming in a general direction without a set destination.
I want the time together to begin a year of lessening restrictions, one where there’s the luxury of exploration.
Indeed, as Tolkien reminds us, “Not all those who wander are lost.”
Sometimes––inner blindfold removed––they’re merely just a little drunk on the reckless beauty of their rediscovered freedom.
Namaste For Now,
