This summer and last I spent a lot of time near and in water. This is new for me. Growing up in DC, we didn’t have access to a pool or swimming lessons. But once or twice in the dog days of July and August when we just couldn’t take one more moment in our unairconditioned house, my mom would pile us six kids in our unairconditioned station wagon and take us downtown to Francis Pool. Those were exciting times, and, as a child whose baseline was fear, they were also sort of terrifying to me. The jam-packed pool with wild kids (including my three brothers!) from all over the city cannonballing like their lives depended on it, the moment in the pool when my feet could no longer touch the bottom, the screams, splashes—it was sensory overload and I felt like I might not make it out alive! But I remember the feel of the water. It was cool and so refreshing I forgot the heat almost immediately, and it made me feel light in my body. I loved it and was simultaneously scared of it. Respect!

My parents also took us to the ocean most summers for a week of vacation. Of course, I was scared of the waves, the jellyfish, the possibility of sharks, but I loved it too. The buoyancy, the adventure, the bodysurfing, the ebb and flow of the tides. Major respect for mother ocean!

I’ve learned from two summers at the lake, and time this year at the ocean as well, that water offers so many lessons, and it makes me feel good deep in my heart and soul. I’ve learned that walking into a lake in northern Michigan in June takes a bit of grit but that the payoff is incredible. Cold water wakes me up beyond the physical experience of it. I feel so ALIVE in cold water. Floating reminds me to lighten up—I’m not as heavy as I think I am and if I just let go and trust, I float. The water reminds me to bring a buoyancy into my more landlocked daily life. Bobbing in waves in the ocean is one of the best feelings I can think of. The coolness of water, the lift of the waves, the joy of it; and also the soft voice of fear that keeps me paying attention to the NOW of each moment.

Water is powerful. We have witnessed the destruction that water can bring upon communities through flooding, and then through drought when water disappears. Right now, in Jackson Mississippi, people are dealing with a horrific water crisis, and the majority of those who are suffering are people of color. I take my access to water for granted. Drinking water, lakes and oceans, water to clean my body, water to share with my flowers and plants. Water is life. It’s mostly what we’re made of and, from the standpoint of practicing our flow yoga, it reminds us that we are all connected—all beings everywhere need water to survive and thrive.

I want to pay as much attention to the water I use as to the water that much of the world does not have. For several years now, I’ve donated monthly to Charity: Water, which helps build wells to bring clean drinking water to communities worldwide. This week, Anti-Racism Daily shared ways to help our fellow citizens who are suffering in Jackson. I’m going to donate a portion of the proceeds from teaching yoga this month to Cooperation Jackson. So come to class as much as you can! Let’s use our yoga practice to deepen our connection to the natural world and to all beings everywhere.

I’m going to carry forward what I’ve learned and love about the ways of water—the way it moves around obstacles, the way it ebbs and flows, the way it refreshes, the way it demands respect, the way it offers itself for light to shine upon it and then reflects that light outward in such beautiful ways, and the way all living beings rely on its presence.