Kripalu Flashback- February 28, 2008
Afternoon Sadhana was of the best kind- challenging and yet, nurturing. After it was over, I felt compelled to walk over to the altar where people had placed sacred objects. Amongst the photos I had placed on the altar was one of my younger brother that he gave me when he was about 7 or 8 years old. He'd framed the photo himself with popcicle sticks and decorated them with markers and when I came home for the summer while I was still in college, he'd hung this picture up in my bedroom. Since then, this picture has always been the first thing I hang up on the wall any time I move to a new place; a constant connection to home, perhaps, or unconditional love.
Standing before the altar, I picked up this photo, once put together with such innocent love and held it between my palms. I held it and studied it- the lady bugs drawn in faded red marker up one side, the note he wrote on the back that I could not decipher in the dim lighting of the room, his innocent face, smile, his school uniform shirt and this combined with the thought of his current struggles, his adolescent angst brought me into a state of uncontrollable sobbing. It started out softly- a few tears and sighs- and progressively, as the feelings emerged, displaying themselves in all their depth and intensity, the sobs increased in intensity, volume, and feeling, not to mention hiccups and snot.
I stood at the altar and was vaguely aware that someone else was standing a few feet away facing the altar, also sobbing. I stayed with the sobs, just let them run their course until they slowly began to subside and when they were done, I grabbed a tissue (they had tissue boxes constantly planted throughout the room. . . they knew we'd be needing them at random times), laid my sacred object back on the altar, and walked away feeling relieved.