Updated: Aug 31, 2018
Photo by Mariela Ale
My first private yoga client in NYC was a formidable lady. I had the blessing of being part of her journey to her last days. During that journey she went from being able to do downward dogs and cobras, to simply taking a short walk in Central Park, to the last days when I just went to visit and sit next to her because we cared for each other and she wanted to spend time together.
In her last few days I was simply there to hold her hand. She couldn’t speak. But she was conscious. Life is a fragile thing. Fragile doesn’t mean not worth it. Quite the opposite, it means life must be cherished while it lasts, cultivated, explored, and shared.
On Wednesday my car was struck from behind on the freeway in an accident involving three vehicles. There were no major injuries. In the larger scheme, the accident could have been so much worse. But there were still those milliseconds where your life speeds up in front of you and you are hurled into a sudden moment of unexpected trauma that will take time to come down from.
My client used to tell me stories of being with her grandchildren. Once, she lost balance while getting out of the car and she fell. She didn’t want to worry her grandchildren so she got up quickly and without really knowing if she had injured herself or not. Her thought was, get up as quickly as possible and move on.
Yesterday, after dealing with the car accident she kept coming to my mind. After the crash I just wanted to sit down and collapse, but I kept going through the whole bureaucracy and procedures: police report, insurance inspector, tow truck, repair shop, rental car, emails and phone calls and paperwork. When I finally got home I sank into my bed for hours. Then I got up and took myself out of it. I wanted to cry and mourn from the trauma of the situation, and I did, but then I got up and moved on.
It’s interesting that also my mom came to mind a lot yesterday. I think ultimately our traumas and losses all go to the same piggy bank of pain, and they all can trigger one another. I so wanted to call my mom and let her know I was okay.
I fell down but then I got up again, and started to put things in perspective and look for support from the people around me, my anchors and lighthouses.
Yes. Life is a fragile thing, and it can be over in the blink of an eye. Throughout the process, we stumble and fall, but we get up, we move on, and in that up and down, we find our lessons. Maybe we even find opportunities to become more loving. And when our time really does come, whenever that is, we are ready. We lived a good life, we did our best.
Adrian Molina has been teaching yoga continuously since 2004. He is a well-known and respected instructor in Miami and New York, with an extensive worldwide following through his platform and school of yoga, Warrior Flow. Adrian and his husband Dennis reside in Miami and frequently lead workshops and international retreats in NYC and around the world. Adrian is also a writer, massage therapist, Reiki healer, meditation teacher, sound therapist, and a Kriya yoga practitioner in the lineage of Paramahansa Yogananda. Adrian is recognized for the community-building work he does in Miami and beyond.