When I was in second or third grade, I had to interview someone (not my parents) about where they were, what they were doing, and how they felt when JFK was assassinated. I interviewed my grandmother on my dad’s side.

At the time I thought the assignment was a history lesson about JFK, and the impact of who he was as a person and president. Decades later I’m learning something new from it that has nothing to do with JFK, and everything to do with being a human.

When something shockingly monumental happens in your life, time stands still for a few moments, and your emotions engrave the experience forever in your heart and memory.

Whether it’s the birth of a child or something like 9/11, you remember where you were, what you were doing, and maybe even details like what you were wearing.

On January 18, 2020, our family added this type of inscription in our hearts. It was one that we weren’t expecting to happen for decades to come. I was at home, getting ready to go to a teacher meeting, and wearing burgundy and white floral yoga pants, a burgundy tank top and a burgundy burnout long sleeve shirt. I heard my husband cry out, and I ran down the stairs to learn that my brother-in-law, Dr. Gouranga Banik, went out for a run and didn’t come home. It was his 59th birthday.

Gouranga Da (Gouranga Brother), as we called him, was the ultimate connector, and made it his mission to take genuine interest in everyone he met. During his life, he truly was the glue that brought and held many people together, whether in his family, his cultural and social circles, or his professional life.

His light-hearted yet sincere conversation skills put everyone he spoke with at ease. No matter what city he visited he either knew someone or created opportunities to reach out to new people, both professionally and personally. His kids were often amazed when they met people only to discover that these “strangers” already knew their father.

During his life, Gouranga Da endured an independence war, famine, discrimination, and the challenges of starting over in a new country. With four advanced degrees under his belt, he was relentless in his professional development, both to contribute to his profession and to create a better life for his immediate and extended family in the U.S. and Bangladesh.

He had just started a new position as Associate Dean and Professor at the College of Engineering, University of New Orleans, and according to his colleagues, he had already accomplished more in his five months there than anyone could have dreamed.

He cared deeply about helping others, and his spirit of generosity took many forms, from serving on the board of several cultural and non-profit organizations, to holding those he cared for to high standards so they could live up to the potential he saw in them, to inviting people to dinner at his house constantly (good thing my sister-in-law loves to cook), to making sure you ate more than your share. I can’t count the number of times he said, “Tami, eat more. Take more. You need to eat more. Why aren’t you eating? You need to eat more so you can be strong like me.” Cue the arm muscle flexing.

On Christmas Day, just a few weeks before his passing, Gouranga Da and I had a long conversation about how important it is to work hard, stay motivated, and follow your ambitions while you’re young. To see his students not take their academic lives seriously and work with urgency towards their goals pained him. As the optimistic coach that I am, I took the position of being able to accomplish your goals no matter your age. His view was that you have fewer opportunities as you get older, so you have to go all out to succeed when you’re young. The self-fulfilling prophecy of his words is hard to believe for those of us who weren’t ready to let him go at such a young age.

Yet, letting go and surrendering to the Divine’s will (no matter what religion you follow) is one of the many places where your practice moves from your mat into your life. It's exactly what the ancient yogic texts tell you to do as part of the second of the Eight Limbs of Yoga (see my previous post on Your Yoga Toolkit for Finding Relief). Ishvara Pranidhana (Surrender to the Divine) is one of the five Niyama (Personal Observances) that help you reduce distractions and stay on the yogic path, no matter what's happening in your life.

I get it. It’s one thing to surrender your need to make it through the traffic light before it turns red. It’s an entirely different endeavor to let go of a loved one unexpectedly. Yet every time I let my body soften with an exhalation, open more deeply into a posture, and allow the tears, shock, and anger to be what they are rather than trying to hold them back, I release my need for things to be the way I think they should be just a little bit more.

I’m no expert in dealing with death, and, having experienced three important losses within a year, I am learning what tends to work for me.

My practice might look different each day. On those days when I'm so tired I can barely get out of bed, I need restorative postures. When I find myself screaming at traffic (even more than I usually do), I feel a more active practice works better. If my heart and energy level feel heavy, I find breath work that lifts my mood is helpful. When my brain isn't working and I feel jittery, I know I need breath work that soothes my nerves. I find I pretty much can't go wrong using light in my meditations.

The grieving process and your yoga practice are very personal.

Just as the grieving process isn’t linear, neither is your yoga practice and how it can help you through the grief.

You can draw on any of the eight limbs to help navigate the waves. The way to find what works for you is to practice, on your own as well as in class, so that you can try different techniques and really look inside to see how they land.

One of the things I’ll miss most is the sparkle in Gouranga Da’s eyes when he smiled. It was almost like he knew a secret that he couldn’t wait to tell you. For now I guess we'll have to wait to share that secret, and I'll look to the light of his memory in my heart for that sparkle.

Speak Your Truth

Do you remember details from monumental events in your life? How do you ride the waves of grief? What helps you surrender or let go in tough times? Let me know below in the comments.

In wellness, light, and presence,

Tami