A teapot broke this morning.
One I’ve been using every day for years.
For a brief moment, there was shock.
A thought of loss.
A sense that something was “wrong.”
But I didn’t follow it.
I paused. Took a breath. Looked at it as it was.
Maybe it can be repaired.
And if not — it has simply come to the end of its time.
It served well.
And strangely… there was peace in that.
At the same time, my body feels under the weather.
Tired. A sore throat. An inflamed shoulder asking for rest.
After teaching my morning yoga class, sitting in meditation, and moving gently, something became clear:
This too is not a problem.
It’s a message.
An invitation to slow down. To heal.
Sitting there with the broken teapot that stille brewed a tea, the discomfort in the body, that still moved and served well.
I felt… peaceful.
Aware of all the reasons there still are to feel grateful.
Aware that everything here is temporary.
Nothing to hold onto. Nothing to resist.
And maybe that’s the real gift of practice.
The ability to choose which thoughts to follow.
To step back and see a wider perspective.
To meet life as it is — not as we wish it to be.
This morning, despite everything, was deeply peaceful.
Even joyful.
Not because everything was perfect.
But because nothing was forced or manipulated to be.
Grateful. Humble. Present.
