“Be like a tree. Stay grounded. Connect with your roots. Turn over a new leaf. Bend before you break. Enjoy your unique natural beauty. Keep growing.”–Joanne Raptis
The magic of Tree Pose 🌳
“Trees sway; get more grounded,” my husband chimed along with the yoga instructor on the DVD as we attempted tree pose on a Monday morning before work, the classic yoga balancing pose that requires standing on one leg.
I appreciate tree pose for many reasons. It strengthens feet, spine, ankles, legs, and core. Further, it opens the hip area, stretches the inner thigh and groin muscles. Plus, it can improve one’s concentration and focus while simultaneously improving alignment of spine and posture. Most of all, it is a pose of balance, which can help in a multitude of ways.
Symbolically, tree pose serves up several lessons. However, one of the more literal lessons of tree pose is that of remaining in the present moment. It’s nearly impossible to balance in tree pose and think into the future or reflect on the past because you end up falling out of the pose. I was reminded of those lessons this past Tuesday, or as I have come to know it as, “Twister (or Tornado) Tuesday.”
Shelter in Place 🌪️
As a veteran educator, I have experienced a wide-array of events, including those that require shelter-in-place. In fact, I can still recall the first time I experienced shelter-in-place with students 30+ years ago. I was teaching in a mobile unit at a great distance from the main brick and mortar school building. The students under my care ranged from 5-12 years of age, and they had been identified as “severe behavior handicapped.”
There were twelve students, ten boys and two girls. Since this was the early 1990s, computers and cell phones were not widely available in the classroom setting. This classroom had an intercom type “phone” that only connected from the school office to the classroom. It was through this “phone” that I received the message that the entire school was sheltering in place in the hallways. The school received a call that a tornado had touched down in another part of the county and was heading our way. I was to gather my twelve, not-always-so-compliant students, and move them to the main building as quickly as possible.
By the time I received the “call,” a heavy metal concert of rain and wind had already begun, drumming and shaking the metal building rhymically with tantruming, angry torrents of sideways rain. Quickly, the paraprofessionals and I helped the students into their school-issued red rain parkas, and that is when the resistance began.
“I am not going out in that rain.”
“I don’t like getting wet.”
“No, I won’t!”
“I’m scared!”
Whether it was the determined, I-am-not-kidding look in my eyes, Divine intervention, or a combination of both, the paraprofessionals and I miraculously gathered all of them in a line. Holding hands as one unit, we began fighting our way through the class door that kept trying to swallow us back inside due to the enraged winds. Once outside, raindrops pelted any exposed skin, including the students’ face and heads as their hoods were immediately blown off. We fought our way to the safety of the school while the passion of the rain and winds seemed to increase and determinedly tried to shove us backwards.
By the time we made it to the school, none of us were dry as the pernicious storm found a way to penetrate even the sturdiest of rain coats. Quickly, we hustled the students to the primary wing of the school, finding a piece of wall away from windows where they could drop to their knees and cover their heads, rivulets of water streaming over all of us, while adrenalin continued to accelerate my heart rate.
Twister Tuesday 🪟
This memory bolted through my mind on “Twister Tuesday” as my classroom, and the surrounding classrooms, were filled with the strident sound of the emergency broadcast system sending an urgent message to seek shelter immediately. Our middle school classrooms are located on the top floor of our school building, and the entire middle school was directed to make their way to the first floor as quickly as possible. In order to do that, we had to run down three flights of stairs in a glass-lined stairwell. As we headed down, the irate storm quickly made its presence known. Like Lyssa, a figure in Greek mythology who is said to drive others mad, the storm insanely clambered and clawed at the windows demanding to get inside, but meeting a wall of resistance.
Once downstairs, it was hot, crowded, and overripe with the odor of sweaty, nervous bodies as we sheltered in place away from doors and windows alongside first and second graders as well as preschoolers from the two- and three- year old classes. At times, there were crescendos of anxious voices of students–or, in the case of some of the little ones–crying. During other moments, there were a few older students who experienced panic attacks, but there were many more who remained calm. There were even those selfless students who chose to hold, cuddle, and comfort younger preschoolers, focusing on the needs of others, rather than themselves.
And if you Fall . . . Pick yourself 🆙
As I walked among the students, checking on them, assuring some, answering questions of others, my mind echoed with the words from the previous day, “Trees sway; get more grounded.” And so, I ground down into my faith. If the students and staff of my previous school survived that former storm way back in the 90s, surely we would survive this one too. My emotions could sway like the tree on the inside, but the more I swayed, the more I reminded myself to ground down and try to remain balanced in the present moment in order to better focus on those around me.
It wasn’t easy, and I wasn’t perfect. But here’s the thing about tree pose. It’s a great way to practice falling. If you fall out of tree pose, you pick yourself up, and try to return to the pose once more.
Like my beloved tree-pose, Twister Tuesday provided another stretch and realignment personally and professionally as well as to my faith. It challenged my focus and concentration in order to remain balanced. And when I “fell,” forgetting to remain focused on the present moment, all I had to do was “pick myself up” and try to return to it once more. Most of all, that Tuesday served as a powerful reminder of the power of the True Source dwelling within and around us, always available to keep us grounded.
Steph Simply 