Happy Father’s Day, Phil Buckley! with Love, your Daughter
In Gratitude and to Honor Dad, I’m putting up the sequence for my “Strong Shoulders, Open Heart” Workshop I’m giving for the first time today. I’ll be over at yogaeveryday.org, just look for it on the nav bar after this evening. Thanks for your strength, truth and heart, Dad.
Did I mention my Dad does yoga? I’ve mentioned here before that my first memory of yoga I’m barely three (which is a big deal…. most of those are gone) and my Mom and I are doing DownDog. Well, Mom is. I’m doing a quiet, determined, three-year old meditation on what Mom might be doing.
And Dad came to the mat later. Did I mention that my Dad made me cry recently when he said, “No one could ever call you Slacker, young lady.” I was stressing about being a lady of leisure (thus the universe swiped that possibility out from under me and gave me all the classes to teach I could possibly imagine!). To have my Dad acknowledge me as a hard worker, well, that’s something.
My Dad showed me that work could be passion. It could light your mind and give you ideas that keep you up at night (hence, my being up at 1:30 am 🙂 And in addition to that he coached, he taught me about cars and balls and when we finally figured out I was better at kicking than hitting, he coached soccer. When I became obsessed with running at 13 and insisted on a spin after homework, when it was dark in the Midwest Winter, he got in his car and followed me, to see I was safe (pretty sure Mom suggested it 🙂 I assume it was when he got sick of driving at 4 or 5 mph that he put on his Converse – the same ones from college – and joined me. Now that’s a Dad.
Now he’s a superchampion – not sure what exact position he holds this year in the MidWest Corporate Challenge, but it’s not too shabby and he’s definitely a superchamp to me.
So when he told me there was a gal who taught yoga at the Institute where he works and he’d taken it up and how it made his life better, well, I was glad, but not entirely surprised.
We’ve come a long way, Dad. Thanks for being the Engineer.
With love, Christine