From Medford, N.J. -- Beauty’s Edge

Days had passed since I felt myself at the precipice of shutting down and complete invisibility. Darkness replete with questions unanswered, nay questions obscured, and perceived resolutions painstakingly distant, left me dulled to the point of paralysis. Initially, an inner call to reach out to my community and return to the inner breath and fire of a lapsed yoga practice had me slowly rising from the abyss. Finally, I arrived at a place of flow, where risk appeared less daunting, eventually transforming into action.

And so it brought me to “Yes!” and to here, my beloved (New York) city, immersing myself even deeper, writing and moving with like-minded folks in a juicy, workshop/play-group which ignited the core elements of my pirit! Except....THIS day, day two of the gathering of visionary hearts and minds...would be...delayed. Digestive upset commanded my attention and disappointing as it was to accept, I couldn’t conceive of a morning’s walk across the Brooklyn Bridge with my newly discovered tribe.

The evening before left me anxiously consumed, tussling crisp hotel bedsheets and struggling with an absence of silence as relentless mind chatter robbed my precious sleep. I had a decision to make, a date, and a time limit. Declining the venture might offer me a possible missed opportunity, and at the same time a chance to heal the stomach malaise I was clearly experiencing, but wanted to deny in every possible way.

Eventually, the agita dissipated. Unceremoniously I resigned myself to a hot soak and the heartfelt belief that honoring my uncomfortable, physical condition did not automatically return me to the visceral place of “No”, the region where the heart disconnects from intuitive knowledge. Fully awake, having made this intentional choice, by the time my toes dispersed watery droplets, I began to understand the beauty of letting go and the expansive freedoms afforded me.

“....The truth is that things don’t really get solved. They come together and they fall apart. Then they come together again and fall apart again. It’s just like that. The healing comes from letting there be room for all of this to happen: room for grief, for relief, for misery, for joy.”  ~ Pema Chödrön, “When Things Fall Apart; Heart Advice for Difficult Times"

Cindy Weinstein is degreed in Special Education with training primarily for the deaf preschool and elementary populations. She spends her spare time musing life's 'magic' as it unfolds while dabbling in Yoga, journalistic writing and poetry. She cites Tap Dancing as a serious bucket list item! Cindy Weinstein is our ground reporter from Medford, New Jersey.


Comments Join The Discussion

Articles You May also Like


The national landscape of the 1960s unfolded radical and controversial domestic ideologies. At age six, with dreamy innocence and considerable imagination, the parameters of my world filled a smaller, local radius. My Brooklyn surroundings, within a predominantly Jewish and Italian neighborhood, provided a sensual palette of colors and sounds that engaged my childlike sphere.

The neighborhood candy store was my local paradise....