Here Comes the Sun: A Journey to Adoption in 8 Chakras by Leza Lowitz

Title: Here Comes the Sun: A Journey to Adoption in 8 Chakras
Author: Leza Lowitz
Publication: Stone Bridge Press (June 30, 2015)
Summary: At 30, Californian Leza Lowitz is single and traveling the world, which suits her just fine. Coming of age in Berkeley during the feminist revolution of the 1970s, she learned that marriage and family could wait. Or could they? 

When Leza moves to Japan and falls in love with a Japanese man, her heart opens in ways she never thought possible. But she’s still an outsider, and home is far away. Rather than struggle to fit in, she opens a yoga studio and makes a home for others. Then, at 44, Leza and her Japanese husband seek to adopt—in a country where bloodlines are paramount and family ties are almost feudal in their cultural importance. She travels to India to work on herself and back to California to deal with her past. Something is still not complete until she learns that when you give a little love to a child, you get the whole world in return.

The author’s deep connection to yoga shows her that infertile does not mean inconceivable. By adapting and adopting, she transcends her struggles and embraces the joys of motherhood.

What I Think

I'm not massively into memoirs as I prefer fiction to non-fiction, but what appealed about Leza Lowitz's Here Comes the Sun: A Journey to Adoption in 8 Chakras was that it is set in Japan (and I always love reading about different people and cultures) and it is about a couple's journey to adoption, something which I know relatively little about but am very interested in. 

Lowitz writes: 

"In Japan, there's a word for empty space, like the white around a haiku on the page, the blank canvas on the top of a scroll of calligraphy, or the void between rocks in the ocean where sacred rope is strung. It's called ma, written as the sun seen through a gate. It is also the universal name for Mother. Ma..."

I feel that this book encompasses three love stories. The first is with Shogo, a man who lets her be herself and quietly sweeps her off her feet. 

The second love story is with yoga. "I fall in love with yoga as I fell in love with Shogo." Yoga is something I have tried in the past and failed at. My body is not flexible enough and my mind won't make my body keep trying. Lowitz, however, shows far more dedication and through yoga she tries to break down the walls she has built around herself. "I dive deeper into my yoga. I sweep my arms overhead, open my heart, and salute the sun. I imagine bringing in light, joy, contentment."

And the final love story is with her child. Leza Lowitz's account of her journey to adoption is brutally honest. "In my body," she writes, "the center was empty when it should have been full. [...] Everywhere I turn, I see pregnant women - mothers pushing strollers, shopping, talking absent-mindedly on their cell phones as their kids throw tantrums. What I wouldn't give for a screaming child, I think. I try not to wallow or judge, but I fail." I had no idea what level of commitment is needed to adopt a child, especially in Japan. When Shogo and Leza were finally successful, it brought tears to my eyes. 

This woman's account of the ups and downs of her life will always stay with me and I hope that if you read it, it has a similar effect on you. 

About the Author

Leza Lowitz’s memoir about her journey to motherhood over two oceans, two decades, and two thousand yoga poses, Here Comes the Sun: A Journey to Adoption in 8 Chakras, comes out soon.

Her books Yoga Poems: Lines to Unfold By, Sacred Sanskrit Words (w/Reema Datta) and Jet Black & The Ninja Wind (w/ Shogo Oketani) are amazon best-sellers. She’s written for The New York Times, Yoga Journal, Shambhala Sun, Best Buddhist Writing, The Huffington Post, and The Japan Times. 


Her YA verse novel, Up from the Sea, is forthcoming from Crown/Penguin Random House. 


Website: www.lezalowitz.com

Friday Flash Fiction - Week 13!

Secrets and Truths

I never told anyone about him and now he’s gone. My days, filled with memories, pass by in a blur. At night, I lie awake for hours next to my husband wondering who I am. And whether the secret I’ve kept for all these years was just. 

We met four years into my marriage, when I already had Matilda and Bobby was on the way. Matilda was at nursery and on Wednesdays my mother-in-law picked her up, so the day was my own until 6 o’clock. The first few weeks I didn’t know what to do with myself and spent the days defrosting the freezer and alphabetising the numerous tins in the larder. But I started to go on little trips; to a castle, to a nearby city, to the cinema to see something Keith wouldn’t have been interested in. 

It was the first Wednesday in December, there was a chill in the air and the azure blue sky stretched as far as the eye could see. I had been shopping in Norwich, a cathedral city about 30 miles from where I lived. Remembering I needed to buy stamps for the Christmas cards, I popped into the post office. I reached down to pick up my shopping bags and managed to drop the entire contents of my purse over the floor. 
“Let me help you,” a baritone voice said from behind me. 
“Oh, thank you. I…I don’t know what happened.” I looked at the lone man scrambling around on the floor, picking up my coins, cards and photos which had rolled in every direction.  
“It’s ok. Here you are.” 
I recognised him instantly. Everybody in the village knew him; that’s why he’d moved away. “Thank you so much,” I said. “There’s a café next door. Let me buy you a coffee to say thanks.” The words escaped my lips before I’d had time to think of the consequences. 
“That’s absolutely unnecessary, but seeing as I haven’t had lunch yet, I’ll take you up on your offer of some company.” He smiled and I realised that he was an exceptionally beautiful man.   

When I didn’t tell my husband about him that same day, I knew I never would. He was mine. He always said he’s loved many men in his time, but I was the only constant love in his life, and that’s always been enough for me. 

L. Besley

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Flash Fiction diary

This piece was inspired by a minute element in the book Please Look After Mother by Shin Kyung-Sook, which I recently read and reviewed. I won't reveal any more because if you haven't read the book, you should read it for yourself. It just goes to show that there are things everywhere that spark the imagination!

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Flash Fiction is short enough to read whilst you're waiting for the kettle to boil. It's fairly quick to write too, but with it being so short, every word has to count. 

On 4th May 2012 I decided to embark on a project: to write a piece of Flash Fiction every day. I'm hoping this will keep the creative juices flowing and ultimately help me hone my craft. Every Friday I'll be posting 'the best of the week' onto my blog for you to read. If you have anything to say (good or 'constructive'!), I'm open to comments.  

Thanks, as always, for reading.