Image credit: NASA
I loved watching the chronicles of our astronauts — the science going just right, the daily miracles, and for the first time in a long time, Americans joining together in the support of one cause. I loved the idea of them being able to check out from communications with Earth for 40 minutes as they journeyed to the other side of the moon. Complete freedom from responsibilities, in a place no human had ever been. How liberating that must have been (especially since they had faith in their equipment!) to experience this complete disconnect. I was envious of those 40 minutes… until I realized that for 36 of them, they had to conduct experiments. Can’t an astronaut get a break?
It seems this week, or maybe this is just part of the journey, everything keeps pointing me toward the same idea - Freedom:
Returning from vacation and lamenting the freedom I had while away.
A client saying the exact same thing about his.
Continuing Jenny Odell’s How to Do Nothing and her take on how social media algorithms are basically the opposite of freedom.
The theme keeps showing up. I’ve learned to pay attention when that happens.
Earlier this week, a client asked how I was doing, what was going on with Julie. I don’t get this question that often. I don’t often share my stuff unless I know the audience is ready or I am feeling particularly secure. She and I usually have plenty to talk about, with children and commitments, so I hesitated and said, “Do you really want to know?” And she said, “Yes.” So I told her about my Freedom class.
On the surface, freedom can look like independence, or “free” thought, or fill-in-the-blank. But when I started to explain that freedom is the liberation from judgment, fixated responses, and just overall habits of the mind (aka Ego), she realized I was going a little deeper and she seemed content to come along for the ride for a bit. I explained that when we bring attention to our constricting reactions, we realize exactly how not free we are. She understood and said she would have to think about that one this week. Of course, I loved that.
In an effort to try to experience my own lunar fly-by, over the weekend, I took Ernie (my husband) to a float spa. At a float spa, you get into a tank of heavily epsom-salted water and float. The tank is completely private and dark. It’s a wonderful experience, having faith in the science, being supported, free in the dark with just the moment. It took me some time to settle, but once I did, I moved around experimenting with that support. I was deeply attuned to how my body felt being held, the physical freedom that comes from this buoyancy, the unusual softness of my skin. I practiced my breathing and noticed my heart center. I noticed again and again. When you are alone for an hour in a tank, in the dark, without any distractions, no music, no lights, it’s just you in that moment. And slowly, I dropped into what I can only call the is-ness of it all - The Freedom of Now. Opening the door into the lit room from the deep darkness of the tank made me feel like those astronauts, experiencing Earth again with a new appreciation, returning from a journey I’ve never experienced.
Could all of these events be serendipitous? Happenstance? I don’t believe so.
My teachers told me there would be other experiences, different ones, deeper ones, when I asked about reliving that shift from the retreat in October. I think this is what they meant. Realizing every single experience, whether we’ve done it a thousand times or just one, is not the same.
Listening.
Noticing.
Experiencing.
And none of it comes without practice. My 7-minute practice is the foundation that keeps making room for moments like these - the float tank, the astronauts, the client who needed to think about it for a week. Practice doesn’t just build discipline. It builds a life that keeps surprising you…. in every moment. It takes you to places you’ve never been before, just like experiencing the other side of the moon.
If you want to experience my complimentary 7-minute practices, they are here.
I have recently found that Freedom allows room for Compassion.