Last night in my kids class, there was one little girl who opted to sit and draw pictures instead of practicing poses with us, calling to us every few minutes, “come see what I drew! come see!”
She was a sweet little free-spirit, joining us at times, hopping away at others. She did her own thing. Drawing pictures. Which was perfectly okay.
Her bubbly laughter and enthusiasm for life charmed me, and I smiled at her — letting her have her own space, her own practice, which for now was clearly nourishing her creativity. At the end of the class, we all gathered around to acknowledge her, ooo-ing and ahh-ing at her pictures.
At the end of her proud little presentation, she flipped to this picture and said — “and look! I drew you! you know, you’re the funnest teacher I ever had. all my other teachers just tell me ‘don’t do this! don’t do that!’ … but you don’t do that. you’re really nice and funny.”
And this struck a chord in my heart, because all of a sudden I realized this little girl was me. Just a sweet little soul wishing to be seen, supported and loved, exactly as she is.
And this stuck with me, because when I was going through school, I was always told not to do this and not to do that. It started with the little things (like drawing pictures and doodling and not sitting still and laughing during gym class) and gradually spiralled into bigger things. I was told that I was a bad kid and was always sent to the hallway, detention or principal’s office. I was shamed and suspended and sent home and separated from the other kids. When in reality, I was just overflowing energy and wild curiosity with a fierce and bold independence.
But instead of being honoured, I was segregated, punished, and told that I was always wrong, that I needed to sit down and shut up, to suppress myself and follow orders — or else. And instead of blossoming, I retracted — I became super rebellious, I trash-talked the teachers, I fought with the students, I reacted defensively, I made life hard for everyone around me, because I didn’t feel fairly treated. I was resentful and selfish and angry.
And it wasn’t until I found Yoga and the sense of acceptance and safety it gave me that I began to soften again. To hold gently my heart, to coax out my inner childlike joy from her long and fearful hiding.
And I am writing this because it is so important, as teachers and conscious beings, to recognize and remember this truth: every single action is either Love or a calling for Love.
And every single moment is an opportunity for complete acceptance, complete forgiveness, complete freedom, and complete peace.
And as we acknowledge and see the beauty, the brightness, the sweetness and perfection in our brothers and our sisters and our children, we set alive their holy spirit, their true and highest self. We inspire in them the freedom to be happy, holy and whole.
And as we release the bondages of judgement we chain others to, we release ourselves from the same. As we free those around us, we set ourselves free.
And when everyone is free, everyone is kind — and we begin to move into this space of deeply honouring each other, of wishing only peace for those around us. We are less interested in hurting each other and more interested in living compassionately and harmoniously and happily with all beings.
There is less pain. Less punishment. Less needless suffering.
More understanding. More sweetness. More laughter. More joy.
And so, in every moment, no matter how small, may we all remember to honour each and every holy being exactly as they are. It starts from the tiniest seeds of willingness, and as we shower them with our loving awareness, our baby sprouts of peace will grow and blossom and shine brightly out into the entire world.
Loving you. xx
