There is a particular, three hour hike on the coast of Italy that I did during a backpacking trip, right after I quit my job at 28. It was the beginning of the road to understanding chronic illness, the human body, and acceptance.
My husband woke up with an unshakable feeling that he needed to climb a mountain in Oaxaca. He asked me if I wanted to go, but it was his feeling, his task. If you wake up one morning feeling like you need to climb a mountain, you definitely should.
It was uncanny how my landlady and the lady in the market told me the same thing. “We hold them in our hearts.” On that day, I held my grandma in my heart, and stared into her photo. I was suddenly gripped with the distinct feeling that her eyes were looking directly at me.
It has been three years since the passing of Ustadh Usama Canon. It is strange, this thing we call “time,” that supposedly heals all and yet is nothing but a human construct. Ustadh Usama’s legacy still permeates my everyday life. In his final act, he taught me how to die.
Vulnerability is usually seen as weakness. It’s a state of being exposed, and not something we usually want. Recently, I experienced vulnerability, and it taught me the necessity and beauty of embracing the shadow in everything. Like a beautiful a yin yang.