On my birthday, I visited a mosque in Amman, Jordan, and prayed according to my guide’s instructions. It struck me how healthy this practice is. The movements are effectively a series of asanas (yoga poses). And this combined with a moment of breathing, being present with God (Jesus, the universe, the flying spaghetti monster—whatever you prefer) is incredibly healthy. Five times a day for three to five minutes: stretch, breathe, quietly reflect on the vastness of the universe (or greatness of God) and gratitude for being here…yeah, that’s a super valuable practice. Physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually rich.
This was my fifty-first birthday. I didn’t expect my fiftieth year to be as intense as it was. Professionally and personally. This started as a thank you note to my wife. It still is. What did I learn this year? Something my wife has been patiently teaching me for the last six years: stretch.
I’ve applied this to my life professionally and intellectually. However, this last year I’ve learned how poorly I’ve applied this to my life emotionally, spiritually, and even physically. Yes, I’ve long been a proponent of pushing yourself outside your comfort zone. Professionally and intellectually, I’ve demonstrated this for most of my life. However, my wife, Stacey, has taught me (or more accurately continues to teach me) to apply stretching to my life emotionally, spiritually, and, yes, physically.
When I’m faced with an emotionally charged situation, I intellectualize and problem solve. It’s how I cope. Attack the problem. Identify solutions. Red team all possible approaches. Work tirelessly to exhaust all possible options. This approach might help mitigate consequences or achieve a desired outcome. But it also means I’m often leaving emotional aspects unresolved. And I’m forcing, which, if this involves other parties—particularly young adults whom you love—results in frustration and suffering. This might be parenthood’s most powerful lesson: as your children become adults, your role shifts. Executor to coach. I believe this is true broadly in life. Anyway…stretching emotionally means being present with emotions that ordinarily would be muted or obliterated by action or anger.
Stretching spiritually, this means allowing the situation to resolve itself. Trusting in the universe, Jesus, God, Buddha, whatever you want to call it. Things really do have a tendency of resolving themselves, and being in flow, rather than forcing, is usually the best and healthiest approach. This is particularly true when others are involved. Like your loved ones.
There’s another fun aspect to stretching spiritually that doesn’t come naturally to me…I’ve read many religious and spiritual books throughout my life. I began reading the Bible and Buddha Dharma when I was ten or eleven. The Tao, the Book of Mormon, (parts of) the Quran, The Book of the Dead, Qaballah texts…It’s been a lifelong passion for me to read spiritual texts, but if I’m being honest with myself, I’ve always approached this from the perspective of understanding the human condition by reading what humans think about the human condition rather than these being divinely inspired.
When I was young, I believed in magic, miracles, and divinity the way most children do. By young adulthood my interest in the spiritual and religious continued, but from a sociological, psychological, or anthropological perspective. As I’ve aged, particularly thanks to Stacey, I’ve become much more open to divinity through a spiritual approach more so than a religious one. And I continue to be amazed by how much ancient wisdom encoded in religious texts turns out to be provable. Or at least evidenced, by experimentation and my own lived experience.
The power of positive thinking? Psychology has a name for it: the mind favors evidence for what it already believes, and belief quietly steers a thousand micro-actions toward the outcome. What the faithful call answered prayer looks a lot like attention doing its work. Meditation, mantra, contemplative practice? Neuroplasticity. Monks were rewiring their brains for millennia before the fMRI showed up to confirm it. And Ayurveda, thousands of years old, which Stacey used to identify my food allergies.
Maybe divinity is the entirety of the universe. The shared human experience of the last million(s) years, passed down through the genetic encoding of natural selection combined with our long history of storytelling. If that’s true, well, then I suppose we are the Divine, as many prophets have insisted. Hence, I’m more open to the woo woo than I’ve been since being a child, and I find great joy and pleasure in this. It makes life a lot more fun and exciting.
Stretch physically? Yes. Seriously. Stretching is super healthy and important, particularly as one ages. And I need to do it more often. I’m still learning this one. Which brings me back to that mosque in Amman. Beginning this fifty-first year, I’m aiming for two to three of those practices a day: stretch, breathe, quietly reflect. Maybe I can work myself up to the full five by the end of the year. Two billion Muslims are onto something. Ancient wisdom passed on through religion tends to be terrifically pragmatic.
As usual, Stacey is boldly insightful and wise. These are all things she’s been sharing with me and lovingly encouraging. To stretch. Emotionally, spiritually, and physically. And I’m so grateful for her love, wisdom, and support.
I’m reading my words and realizing that once again, I’m intellectualizing something that I began as a love letter and thank-you note to my wife. Stacey, who is a yoga therapist, has lived and embodied my most profound learnings from this past year. All of these insights she has recognized and lived are really the most profound learnings of my fiftieth year of life. And it’s in my sixth year of our relationship that I’m beginning to understand why and how to apply her wisdom.
Thanks, Stacey. I love you. Life with you is like lasagna. It’s many-layered, textured, and delicious.
Aaron Fulkerson 