Here comes the Sun


23282195My friend and accomplished author and yogini, Leza Lowitz, recently published her memoir. A wise, raw and touching account of her long road to motherhood, and all that it took to ready her heart.

What really hit me while reading it, is that I know I was around during some of the really tough times that she describes in the book. A Tokyo blow-in I was never around for long, but we’d always catch up (and still do). We’d drunk hot chocolates and talked a little about the adoption process in Japan. She’d shared how tiring it all felt sometimes, and that if one more friend got accidentally pregnant and came to her for succour that she couldn’t be sure just what she might say.

But otherwise I didn’t really know, or didn’t take the time to know, the depth of all that was going on for her. She was honest, always, but stoic, because God forbid when you’ve been trying to have a kid for nearly a decade you’re not going to drop your bundle about it to every person who asks “how are you?”.

You just live with it.

And so what strikes me is this: that women hold much. Regardless of how together we might seem, and the dignity with which we go on with our work, we hold much. In our bones and our wombs, our hearts, our every cell. We hold so much.

And it’s why I feel so grateful for books such as Leza’s, because every story told seems to lighten that load. The tears I cried and the joy I felt for her, with her, were as much a balm for my own heartbreaks. And that’s how it works. The weight of a human life, with all its shame and disappointment, failure and loss, too heavy for any of us to carry alone.

Because it really can be very sad. And this is what I’m feeling – the sadness, the hope tinged with fear, and the fear tinged with hope that so many women carry on the journey of motherhood (whether they ever become mothers or not). A healthy child cannot entirely redeem the losses or setbacks that came before. They will always be there, inextricable from who that woman has become.

But they also make her beautiful. Deep and wise and stripped away in all the places that make her better at loving.

Because that’s what being a mother is all about. And that’s what the longing is all about: a relentless urge to know what it is to love another so fully, so completely, that you’d give your own life that they could live.

I love this about Leza’s story. That as rational and intelligent and insightful as I know her to be she simply couldn’t explain away her longing. Because longing is not like that. It won’t be dissuaded and it will not, cannot, compromise. To do so would be to dam the stream of our life force, to live with a crack at our core. “The truth that lives there will eventually win out. It’s a god we must obey, a force that brings us all inevitably to our knees.” ~ Cheryl Strayed.

And so she never gave up.

This Tokyo-based, American Samurai-of-a-woman, prolific writer, poet, editor, inspirational Yoga teacher and mentor to many, studio owner, manager, wife, and now mother.

God bless you Leza.

As Shogo taught you, you teach me: “Nana korobi ya oki ~ fall down seven times, get up eight.”

You can order this wonderful book through Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Here-Comes-Sun-Journey-Adoption/dp/1611720214

Let me know what you think.

Om Namo Narayani