Dear Reader,
Yesterday we crossed through Equinox into fall. Last night at sunset, the wind came out of the south, pushing at my doors and ringing my bell. I went outside. The wind was warm, but the mountains looked dark, the clouds hinting not just at moisture, but at cold.
My skin prickled with memories of being out for the season, of those moments when, after weeks of hot sun and long days, suddenly the nights turn cold. The wind takes on a different quality, a kind of seriousness that gets my survival-level attention. My mammalian body craves coziness. I want to feel nestled and comfortable, curled up with tea and a book, loved ones nearby, letting the storms pass outside.
An urgent inner voice proclaims, “It’s time to go inside.”
These golden days of fall can be glorious, with their particular quality of sun and air, the whole world bursting into color, letting go. The quality of being is shifting. We are indeed in a phase of turning, and if we allow ourselves to attune to this rhythm, there is nourishment here: the satisfaction of completion, the wisdom that comes with pause, reflection, and release.
This week I have been pondering what practice means to me as I work on a fuller articulation of the vision behind PranaBeing. The process has been unexpectedly rich, allowing me to connect many pieces of learning from over the years and to see more clearly how practice can guide us into a deeper relationship with ourselves, one another, and life.
I don't think of practice as a way to manage ourselves, hack, optimize, or even necessarily improve ourselves. I think of it as a way of applying ourselves to life: repeatedly turning our attention toward what is here, until our ability to embody presence amidst everything that is changing becomes more deeply established.
This understanding of practice helps me see why it can be so valuable in facing the reality that we don't know what happens next and cannot control it. We can, however, practice how we meet what happens.
That has been at the heart of my recent work on the Practice Together section of the PranaBeing website. I don't want to create a collection of classes and “content.” I want the offerings to be touchstones—opportunities to pause, reconnect, remember who we are, and practice being in relationship with life.
Whether we practice together in person, online, one-on-one, in groups, or through some combination of these, the unifying thread is the recognition that our whole life can become a practice of integration.
What happens when more of us begin to live this way? I am very curious to find out.
This week, I invite you to notice:
What might become possible if you loosened your grip on something you're trying very hard to control and instead applied yourself toward being with what is, as it is?
I would genuinely love to hear what you discover.
Peace,
Chanda
