On meditation and candles
Sitting on the mat, in the dark. Softly gazing at the tea light in front of me. Focusing my attention on the energy resonating and reverberating in my spine. It was during this moment in candlelight yoga tonight that I remembered another moment I found profoundly meaningful in a daytime yoga class I had with another of my favorite teachers.
The moment, which I know will always remain imprinted in my mind, goes back a little over a month, and I was in the midst of trudging through a lot of very difficult issues. It's easy to get lost in the fog and darkness of the mind during difficult times like that. For me, yoga is the guiding light. But it's not just yoga, it's the teacher that leads you through the practice, that is the true beacon. During that moment a little over a month ago, Randi sat at the front of the room in her animated and bright-eyed--but gentle and calming--comfortable way and noted that that particular day was very rainy and wet. As she left her apartment that morning to start her day, she explained to us during those first meditative moments of class, that the rain, the water, the flowing streams, reminded her of the watery, flowey, changing nature of the sacral chakra, or the energy that builds around your hips. She wanted today's practice to address that area, and open it up to allow for healthier energy flow which culminates in a healthier mind and body. Her tone, I must be clear, was not that of a diagnostic energy healer...rather it was more of a polite request to just please, for a moment, have an open mind and open heart.
Whether or not one believes in energy healing or chakras, I found, in this experience, that every minute of Randi's class gently pushed aside a barrier that was holding me down, or shed light on a dark corner of my damaged soul. By the end of class, I was glowing with peace. I emanated bliss. I embraced an open heart. I would be doing that moment a disservice to not admit that, at that moment in my life, the class was pivotal. My fog lifted.
Let's drift back to my cross-legged seat in the same room on the same floor. Admittedly, I was a bit annoyed that the class hadn't been more physical since I had been very sedentary all week at work and was really looking forward to stretching and moving around. But I let my eyes settle on the flame. And I let my body melt into the floor. And I let my spine rise up into a tall seat. Before I knew it, my hips didn't feel sore anymore, and my mind had stilled. The above memory flooded into my being. It struck me as really remarkable that Randi connected rain, with flow, with change, with the orange sacral chakra, and tied it all together with a Vinyasa flow. Especially since all of those things have deep meaning for me. (And on a physical level, the more open my hips are the less pain my knee experiences...so I'm always targeting the very area in which she focused on that day). Contemplating her rationale and method makes me reconsider how I approach my day. Do I wake up in the morning, observe what is happening in that present moment, think about it, make it relevant, and share it with others? I don't--but I really want to start. And I want to stop passively experiencing this life that is mine. It's arguable that I'm doing a pretty good job of pro-actively living...but I want to push myself for more. I want to contemplate the day the way Randi described. It would enhance my mental processes and my creativity, but most importantly it would encourage me to seize the moment. And by seize the moment I mean firmly grab hold, turn it and twist it and explore every angle, extract all of the information I possibly can, and then project it back into the world with something meaningful and positive.
I recognize this is a lifelong goal. That's okay. I don't expect to master it immediately. BUT Im really excited that I am at least aware of a possible new way of being, of existing.
It is so revitalizing.
The moment, which I know will always remain imprinted in my mind, goes back a little over a month, and I was in the midst of trudging through a lot of very difficult issues. It's easy to get lost in the fog and darkness of the mind during difficult times like that. For me, yoga is the guiding light. But it's not just yoga, it's the teacher that leads you through the practice, that is the true beacon. During that moment a little over a month ago, Randi sat at the front of the room in her animated and bright-eyed--but gentle and calming--comfortable way and noted that that particular day was very rainy and wet. As she left her apartment that morning to start her day, she explained to us during those first meditative moments of class, that the rain, the water, the flowing streams, reminded her of the watery, flowey, changing nature of the sacral chakra, or the energy that builds around your hips. She wanted today's practice to address that area, and open it up to allow for healthier energy flow which culminates in a healthier mind and body. Her tone, I must be clear, was not that of a diagnostic energy healer...rather it was more of a polite request to just please, for a moment, have an open mind and open heart.
Whether or not one believes in energy healing or chakras, I found, in this experience, that every minute of Randi's class gently pushed aside a barrier that was holding me down, or shed light on a dark corner of my damaged soul. By the end of class, I was glowing with peace. I emanated bliss. I embraced an open heart. I would be doing that moment a disservice to not admit that, at that moment in my life, the class was pivotal. My fog lifted.
Let's drift back to my cross-legged seat in the same room on the same floor. Admittedly, I was a bit annoyed that the class hadn't been more physical since I had been very sedentary all week at work and was really looking forward to stretching and moving around. But I let my eyes settle on the flame. And I let my body melt into the floor. And I let my spine rise up into a tall seat. Before I knew it, my hips didn't feel sore anymore, and my mind had stilled. The above memory flooded into my being. It struck me as really remarkable that Randi connected rain, with flow, with change, with the orange sacral chakra, and tied it all together with a Vinyasa flow. Especially since all of those things have deep meaning for me. (And on a physical level, the more open my hips are the less pain my knee experiences...so I'm always targeting the very area in which she focused on that day). Contemplating her rationale and method makes me reconsider how I approach my day. Do I wake up in the morning, observe what is happening in that present moment, think about it, make it relevant, and share it with others? I don't--but I really want to start. And I want to stop passively experiencing this life that is mine. It's arguable that I'm doing a pretty good job of pro-actively living...but I want to push myself for more. I want to contemplate the day the way Randi described. It would enhance my mental processes and my creativity, but most importantly it would encourage me to seize the moment. And by seize the moment I mean firmly grab hold, turn it and twist it and explore every angle, extract all of the information I possibly can, and then project it back into the world with something meaningful and positive.
I recognize this is a lifelong goal. That's okay. I don't expect to master it immediately. BUT Im really excited that I am at least aware of a possible new way of being, of existing.
It is so revitalizing.