Dad… doing his own version of yoga on the beach

I’ve been doing yoga every morning lately. Partly because I don’t want to end up a hunched-over old lady, and partly because my sadness is heavy in the morning so I NEED a to-do list and things to accomplish… and a practice that works my mind and body is perfect.

Today was rough. I chose a video from a new teacher. She began the session reading out of Isaiah, talking about God creating something new in my life, and to stop focusing on what’s happened in the past. I’m not going to lie, my struggle with God right now is real. And the thought of him using this tragedy to create newness in my life was not welcome.

We jumped right into tried and true yoga poses, but then she started adding some new twists to each pose. It was uncomfortable. I lost my balance. I got confused about which foot went where. I didn’t like it. I thought about quitting. The teacher said these poses represented our lives and newness, and how it can be uncomfortable, but if we keep at it, it’ll get easier.

To wrap up the session, she told us to sit on our mat and lengthen our spine. I leaned back into child’s pose, curled over my knees, my head on my mat, and I cried.

I am losing my balance, I’m confused, trying to figure out where to put each step. And I hope she’s right…. that it’ll get easier.

There must be more ‘newness’ out there other than simply a hole in my future where my dad should be.

What newness is in store for me? I have a kid away at college, that’s new. We inherited a rental property, that’s new. Yoga everyday, that’s new. Maybe I’ll pursue writing more, maybe my husband and I will grow closer.

I recently saw my massage therapist. She told me that grief affects our physical bodies and that the pain in my hips is indicative of feeling the loss of stability. My dad was my stability. For my entire life, he has been my go-to person. Whether it was for advice, or for a partner on the tennis court. I counted on him. I counted on him being there when I needed him. When I had a concern, I bounced the situation off of him. When I was excited, I called him to share the news.

Maybe, just maybe… my newness will be moving my reliance from my earthly dad to my heavenly father. Newness is scary, in this case bred out of tragedy, but can produce something good, maybe better than we can imagine in the depths of our grief.