How I’m Holding Both Joy and Sadness Right Now

The story of two sons.

My son, Eric, is known for being "stealth." You won't see him on social media or hear him being loud. He's gentle, unassuming, and loves to play his guitar. Out of the blue, he surprised me by signing up for a 200-hour yoga teacher training (YTT).

Oh boy, was I stoked but tried to contain my happiness. I learned if I get too excited about something beneficial for my kids, that may bring the kiss of death to the endeavor.

In a measured way, I told him this training would change his life. As it turns out, he loved every minute of it.

Eric completed his summer-intensive YTT on Saturday.

I started the family trend by becoming a certified teacher in 2016; my daughter did the same in 2020. After the divorce trauma our family experienced 14 years ago, we found yoga as a method to reconnect to ourselves and each other.

It’s also been a way to create and sustain peace.

I am proud and happy for my son and daughter, who found the gift of yoga much earlier in their lives than I did. Now we can nerd out about the best way to do a crow pose or a sun salutation.

While my husband and I were there to support Eric, I was very grounded and hyper-aware that I could be there that day with him. I didn't want to miss a minute. I don't know if the images of that day would have been as sharp if we had not just heard devastating news from our friends the night before. Their son, Ryan, who was in his mid-30s, had been killed late Thursday evening in an act of gun violence.

Ever since I heard, I couldn't stop thinking of them. Our friends were on a flight across the country to identify their son's body while I was sitting in a yoga studio with my boy. I was beaming for my son while simultaneously holding profound sadness for them.

This sadness imbued more meaning on my son's accomplishment.

Holding space for opposing emotions simultaneously is a unique characteristic of our humanity.

It's not either-or, but both-and.

As his mother, I am hopeful that Eric will experience a long, fulfilling life and that I will be granted the privilege of watching his story unfold. While I imagine I will leave the physical plane before my children, I don't know the future, and I have no choice but to appreciate what I have now.

I have spent most of my life denying the approach of old age. I'm still surprised at the face I catch in the mirror, but I know it is a privilege to be alive, no matter what. Setting a good example for my kids by being delighted at my antiquity is the best I can do, even though the bad parts of aging are unavoidable.

I pray that Ryan's parents and sister will hang on these next days and months. The shock and pain have brought them all to their knees. As their friends and family, we can do little but witness and support.

If you are inclined, please send a thought or prayer their way.

This is Eric between his teachers receiving a shower of rose petals.