The Poetry of Belonging
Andrea Gibson, one of my favorite poets, said, "If you want to be happier, wholeheartedly welcome your grief." My dear friend Reuben Jackson passed away last week, and the waves of grief have been strong. They have brought rivers of tears and heartache, but in their own way, the waves of grief have also brought joy. It truly has been a beautiful thing to witness people from all over the world publicly share their love for Reuben, and to reconnect with old friends I have lost touch with over the years as we share our grief and our memories. I am doing my best to welcome this heartache, and to practice with it. Reuben was a deeply feeling person, and I think he would have agreed with Andrea Gibson that the only way to make it through this life is to open your heart to it all.
Reuben was one of my first yoga students, but he also was, and continues to be, my teacher. Reuben was deeply shy, but he connected with people everywhere he went, and he shared his heart freely on paper, through radio waves, and in the sweet voice texts he would send to his chosen family in that velvety voice of his. Like many of you, Reuben took my Total Beginner yoga series over and over for years until he moved back to D.C. looking for his heart to feel at home. The irony is that he never really left Vermont, and it never left him. As he once wrote me, "Vermont is as close to the oft sought home as any place I'll ever have." Reuben taught me with such clarity that we can search the world over for belonging, but the truth is that we already belong.
He also taught me about what it means to unravel expectations of who you should be, and to allow yourself to be who you already are. Reuben loved ballet and music, practiced yoga, and wrote heart-opening poems. His favorite book was The Bhagavad Gita. His life's work was integrating these parts of himself with what society expected of a Black man in America. He used to joke (in his way) about doing the everyday things he loved to do, like driving his truck, as "driving while Black" or coming to class as "practicing while Black." Racism left an indelible mark on his heart and soul, and yet he had a wild love for this complicated world, and kept opening his heart to himself and to others even when it was painful.
Reuben wrote the book Scattered Clouds, was recently published in an anthology of contemporary Black poets edited by Kwame Alexander called This Is the Honey, and had just submitted his new book of poems to his publisher before he passed. You can hear him reciting his poems all over the internet, and listen to episodes of his radio show in the national archives.
If you, too, are in the process of becoming, are looking for connection, are grieving, and/or are madly in love with this beautiful, messy world, I hope you'll get to know Reuben Jackson through the legacy of his work, and I invite you to come to class this weekend. I'll be teaching about belonging and putting out into the world what you wish to receive. Building connection and community through yoga practice feeds my soul, and the people who come to my classes, like my dear friend Reuben, become family. I hope to practice with you soon.
As Reuben would say, "bring the Kleenex."
