Greetings. It’s good to connect again.
I recently returned from my native “Sud”, Montpellier (France), where I spent a few weeks. This trip was unique in many ways.
The primary reason for my trip was to visit my family. Although I always appreciate going back south and see them, this time was particularly crucial for me to go because of my mum’s current health issues.
As the years pass, age and the inevitable vulnerability that goes along with it increase. I know many of us this past year met sickness quite close, hitting our elderly but not only. No matter at what age, with sickness (at least to some degree and I believe for most people) always comes fear. The fear that an unpleasant turn of events takes us by surprise; the fear that, suddenly, we loose control and have no idea what is going to follow.
In France, I found an inspiring book: “Revivre” (or ‘To live again’), by G. Corneau, a famous psychologist Quebecker who tells his journey with cancer. He wrote how cancer is by many seen as the “enemy”, and yet it has lived hidden into the depths of our cells until we discover it. It reminded me about how yoga, and the old myth of the dancing Lord of Siva “Siva Nataraja”, tells us that some part of us will always remain secret. The mystery will prevail, and despite amazing advancement of western medicine we never truly know how long the sickness will stay around.
Now back in Denmark, I reflect back on my stay and see it as a necessary “rite of passage”. Sickness not only brings its raw, uncertain vulnerability with it. It also wakes up in us – the sick one and the persons around – a long-held wisdom we easily forget: i.e. the urgency to live.
Such urgency comes along with an inner knowingness, somehow a paradoxical “certainty in the midst of uncertainty” about what is truly important.
My time close to my mum, dad and sister taught me that unless I am willing to welcome and feel the vulnerability of not knowing, I cannot re-discover and get in touch with what is truly important: being present with what is and our natural capacity for love. And what is the necessary condition for that? Keeping an open heart. An unshivering willingness to face the vulnerable, because it is the direct link to the only thing that matters.
The way in which we shared emotions we never had been able to share before and how we held each other showed me the power of human connection. Sharing worries and fears is part of it, and so is expressing visions and hope. Most importantly, the power of human connection is about seeing each other and let us be seen. The rest is pure noise (which is certainly not easy to remove!).
Life is a series of cycles, as many poets and teachers put it. Cycles end, and new begin. Or put it differently, some cycles get complete and dissolve in order to give room and birth to something fresh. Human connection is the fuel that keeps the wheel of cycles turn. We, as one person, can simply not do it alone.
It sounds weird to feel grateful for such a tragic turn of events, and yet this is how I feel. I am grateful for this opportunity to immerse myself in this powerful transitional time with my family. I am grateful to have shared my vulnerability and seen that of my loved ones. I am grateful for where and who I am coming from, and how much this will support me wherever and however I will go from now on.
I thank you for reading this and for your mental and energetic support. If that feels appropriate, I invite you to reflect on what (and who) is truly important to you right now. Let’s not waste time: let’s go celebrate it right away.
What is next? Upcoming events!
Officially studios and in-person classes started again! I cannot wait to meet you there soon, if you can make it. It is going to be good to feel the in-person power of human connection. And yet I feel utterly grateful for the ability to have connected with so many of you virtually and remotely as well in the past months. See my regular schedule here for classes at Pakhus and Yoga Flat.
After having moved it a few times, I am now planning to host a retreat in the beautiful setting of the Slovenian mountains in late September 2021. You’re warmly invited. Read more here and contact me for questions.
I cannot wait to see you and/or connect with you very soon.
With much love and brought warmth from the south,
Cédric
