A man prayed to God every morning, “Please, let me win the lottery!” And every night, the winner was announced, and it wasn’t him. Day in and day out he prayed ardently, “Let me win the lottery! I’ll use the money for good!” And every night, the same story; no win. Finally, one night he collapsed in frustration and exclaimed, “God, do you hear me? Let me win the lottery!” And the sky opened, and a loud thunder boomed, and God spoke. “Son, buy a ticket.”
Someday, when my husband is eulogized, I hope it is said, “He played the lottery.” He certainly bought a ticket when he made me his girlfriend; trust me, at 21 going on 15, I was quite the gamble. He bought a ticket when we decided to move to California, when we bought our first home, and when we jumped into the deep end of the world of fertility. My practical, rational, analytical husband also buys literal lottery tickets, and from the day we met, he’s maintained, “I’ve always had a strong feeling I’d win the lottery someday.”
Like most people, we engage in the regular game of, “What would you do if we won?” We have plans to save a lot of animals, take care of our families, and – of course – buy a boat. If you’re wondering whether we’d close this studio, the answer is simple: nope, we’d buy a bigger one. We’d, in effect, turn in one ticket for another one. Nothing could stop me from trying my darnedest to build the best yoga community I can. No amount of money would make me quit trying to be an honest voice in a yoga-world that seems less grounded by the day. And nothing would hold me back from hiring and training excellent teachers to spread the good word.
This studio is in many ways my answer to, “What would you do if you won the lottery?” But, it’s also my ticket to play. Years ago, I started the habit of buying my own ticket. I buy a ticket every time I sit meditation and open myself to what I may find. I buy a ticket every time I step onto my yoga mat and explore the alignment of my body, mind, and emotions. I buy a ticket every time I share an email, blog post, or personal story in class and wait to see how my vulnerability is received. I bought quite the fat ticket when I opened the doors here. Like most who take big gambles, I’ve lost more than I’ve won. But when I’ve won, it’s been nothing short of magic.
All the best luck and best intentions in the world don’t matter if you don’t play the game. No one can buy your ticket for you. This September, I encourage you to show up and watch the magic.
To help encourage you, we’re having a lottery! See the details below.
Warmly,
Bethany