I Missed My Bubby's Shloshim

Learning to let go while stepping into my power.

Well, I thought I would be writing something very different today, but life is always throwing unexpected experiences at me. I’m on my way home from the yoga retreat I attend every year in Sayulita, Mexico, and I was supposed to make a detour in New York for my grandmother’s shloshim, marking the traditional thirty days of mourning since her passing.

I went to the airport at 4:00 AM, boarded my flight to Mexico City at 6:00 AM (worst airport ever), and was scheduled to catch a 9:00 AM connecting flight to JFK with a five-hour layover. When I arrived in Mexico City, I found out that my flight was delayed from 9:00 AM to 7:50 PM, which would get me into New York at 1:00 AM, causing me to miss my Bubby’s shloshim, which was scheduled for 5:00 PM.

So disappointed.

I called my husband, and he said he could get me on a flight to Denver within an hour, and from there, on a flight to Bozeman. I had to make the decision then and there. Waiting eleven hours in Mexico City to land in New York in the middle of the night, still miss the shloshim, and then turn around a few hours later to fly home to Bozeman made very little sense. So I decided to pivot.

I changed terminals, went back through security, walked and ran literally miles, and made the Denver flight by the skin of my teeth. Now I’m on the flight from Denver to Bozeman, my third flight of the day, and not even ending up where I was “supposed” to be.

My luggage, however, is headed to New York, with no one to speak to at Aeroméxico. I had sent my wigs to get worked on, thinking I would pick them up during my twenty-four hours on the ground in New York. Now they’re stuck there, and I don’t know what the next step is.

I didn’t have much time to think or process because I was just doing what I had to do. But now I’m on the plane, on my way home, and I’m really sad. I really wanted to be there.

If you read the essay I wrote about my Bubby a few weeks ago, you know that I couldn’t make it to her funeral or shiva, and I really wanted to. I put a lot of effort and money into making this happen, and yet Hashem has a different plan. I guess it’s a good thing that I’m coming from a yoga retreat.

Life’s been intense for me lately (since 2006 ;)), and I had some very profound experiences at the retreat. We are ever evolving, and I can really feel when layers and protections get peeled away. I’ve had a lot of opportunities to exercise my trust muscles, but there’s another part to this that’s always been stickier for me.

I’ve always been really good at trusting in G-d, and I also really want solutions. I want to know how to navigate problems. I want answers. I want to know what to do. What I deeply felt this week was the invitation to truly surrender. To not have the answers. To not know what to do. To simply let things be. To be humble enough to say “I don’t know” to myself, and at the same time truly embody my essence and step into my power.

My daughter, Shoshana, is engaged to a non-Jew. Here’s what I know: I love her with my whole heart, and I do not know how everything will play out. I don’t have the answers. I don’t know what G-d’s master plan is, but I know He has one.

I surrender.

Hashem, I trust You. And apparently, You believe in me too.

I believe that I am exactly the right mother for my children. I know that I’m doing my best. I don’t always know how to go about it, and that’s ok, right? :)

I will breathe, slow down, and find alignment in my mind, body, and soul.

I’ve learned some new tools to find that alignment, and they are powerful. I learned a new practice to breathe into all my chakras, to pay attention to the ones that feel a little sticky or out of sync.

This might sound crazy, but it is Chassidus embodied. Taking all the concepts we learn and bringing them into our bodies, which in turn allows us to impact our behavior in the most real and practical way as we grow.

So as I land in Bozeman, I am sad. I can lean into it and feel it, and yet I am also grounded and aligned. I can handle it.

I surrender.

There’s a reason, and I honor it.

Hopefully my suitcase will make its way back to me one of these days :).

Love,

Chavie