Sacred Work

In yoga teacher training we always focus some on our sacred work. As I was sitting by the water fall the other day, the dragonflies 🐉 were buzzing about and it reminded me of the time over 8 years ago when dragonfly medicine first came to me to encourage transformation, joy, and growth as I made the decision to leap into teaching yoga full time and was filled with enormous gratitude!

I was also reminded that we stand on the shoulders of our ancestors. In this moment, I knew that to be true.

My dad started woodworking in high school. He was very talented and was offered the ability to study further after he graduated. However, he’d met his Thrill in Pleasureville, as he called my mom and decided to stay in Henry County. Who knows if he stayed for love or stayed out of fear that he might not be good enough or some other fear. My guess is the later because their love was strong enough to withstand anything. Either way, he stayed, and he never seemed to look back. He was devoted to his soul mate and his girls, and never once outwardly indicated he felt he missed something. (The only reason I know this about him is through my mom’s stories.)

When he returned to his craft later in adulthood, he again showed his talent—pouring love into every piece he created. The demon of fear and perfectionism made it difficult for him to appreciate the beauty he was creating. Although he never realized his sacred work, some of my happiest memories were of the smell of saw dust, watching him create beauty and carefully deciding who to gift each piece to (you were unbelievably special to him if you received something).

It’s no accident that I looked down in my console today and saw a key 🔑chain he crafted with the key to the yoga studio on it. Even today, he supports my sacred work, and from his place in heaven, he can feel joy for me without any of the fear he may have felt when he was on this earthly plane about whether I would be taken care of in my choices.

Although, I too, am often immobilized by fear of not enoughness and perfectionism, I dare to stand on his shoulders and continue my craft. I know the world was a better place when he was sharing his sacred work, and I know the world will 🌍 be more magical for mine.

In what ways do you stand on the shoulders of your ancestors? How have their lessons supported you?

Meg Strout