Thursday, February 16, 2012

Shivasana Kisses

A funny thing happened last week...
I had this luxurious 5 days where all I had to do was listen to wonderful yoga teachers tell me what to do -- it was spread out over a week, but started with a three hour heart opening workshop -- on the few off days I found sleep more desirable than practice.
It was really wonderful -- and by the end, I noticed, I was missing my own voice. I was tired of other people's practices. I wanted my own.

Why is it so hard to trust my own voice? Believe in it?
What if I was beginning to change that...

I had a funny headstand this morning. First, the doubt. Sweet Teacher is trying to move us into the middle of the room with our headstand. I can do that now. But I'm always scared to. I started a few today -- then chickened out. So I moved to the wall. The door, actually, in this case -- I close the door to the living room and use it as my net. I immediately moved into my strongest head stand to date. I stayed there for about a minute. Then the dog came over and kissed my nose. I didn't fall out -- and even managed a raspy, go lie down. But really, it was so sweet. I stayed another minute and came down earlier than I needed to. I always do that. It's like I have to build the muscles while I'm not paying attention...

She kissed me in Shivasana too.

This was the Rumi I opened to this morning:

Don't let your throat tighten
with fear. Take sips of breath
all day and night, before death
closes your mouth.

Good morning, Sweet Day.

Thursday, February 9, 2012

Scared of my shadow...

I get superstitious about some things... it's true. I used to have the collected works of Emily Dickenson by my bed in college -- and pretty much any time I opened it it would speak directly to my situation. There have been other books too. And this crazy guy who does amazing horoscopes... I don't believe in such things -- but him...
Sometimes I think it's just a matter of what you want to hear -- of course -- like a tarot reader ready to pick up on what you are saying you don't mean to. But it's the self tricking the self into belief of insight...

Anyway -- lately -- Sweet Teacher always seems to have what I need in any given day. Sharing and touching and moving into the light.

It was hard to go today -- sort of. Physicality, a bout with insomnia, some scattered work issues... So much that I left for class with nothing -- no mat, no towel... very unlike me. I thought I forgot my phone -- which was in my bag... the picture of the scattered and tattered and entirely non-committed.

But her joy... that would make it worth it...

Any yoga practice worth its salt is not about the sunshine. It'a about the shadows.

The shadows.
If this is a practice for life...
The creatures have been having nightmares... I haven't slept soundly in over a week.
Physical and emotional upheaval.
My therapist asked -- (I need a name for her, don't I... hmmm, have to think on that...) if the pain in your stomach could tell you what it wanted to speak to what would it say? I can't quite go that far with her, but I can rephrase it... Well, I suppose if it was a metaphor it would say, it's one thing to be healing, but you need to take things gently none the less -- I can't really withstand trauma right now -- virus or difficulty is sure to throw things way back out of whack...

"Today I invite you to let any anxiety -- and discomfort -- any shadow to come and speak to you -- to give it some space and help it relax..."

It was a hard practice, but just what I needed. I don't feel like a warrior. I do not feel like a tree.
Good morning sweet shadow.

Let the anxiety tell you what it needs to now -- and then breathe it out. There is nothing left to do for it now.