It feels like I haven’t taught in a while, even though I’ve been busy “creating content” —which is a form of teaching, and has a lot of value, but there’s no energy exchange in it.
Case in point: I did an on-demand yoga class on my laptop yesterday and it was great, and at the end, I sent thoughts of deep gratitude into the teacher’s heart from my own heart. And maybe he received it, and maybe he didn’t, but there’s no way of knowing.
That class was recorded years ago. I know the teacher is still alive, and if I believe in The Butterfly Effect, he might have felt it, wherever on the planet he was at 4 P.M Eastern yesterday. But I didn’t feel any reverb back.
That certainly doesn’t happen when I send gratitude to people physically present in the yoga room, and they send it back to me:
There I can feel it. I can see it in their eyes and hear it in their voices and sense it through their bodies. It’s there. Palpable and undeniable.
I haven’t had that experience in a while.
Five hundred and twenty days, to be exact.
I wonder what it will feel like to send and receive with no lag time?
In the last five hundred and twenty days I’ve been burrowing inside myself, keeping to myself, talking to red dots on cameras, learning video editing, building a website, cultivating relationships with screens.
It’s become my new medium, my new normal. And it feels okay. I’ve adapted.
So I’m wondering what will happen next month when there’s no screen in between us? Does my transmitter still work? How about my receiver?
Will it be a shock to the system? Or will I slip into it like amniotic fluid: warm, comforting, home.