Desolate, Tired, Full of Anxiety. Yogi is Sick.
Sick Yogi thinks a lot, works a lot, and has an abundance of energy for her tribe at her expense; light and love for her students, her lover, her family. Yogi is not Self Centered. Thus, Dis-Ease creeps in. Like a lobster in a pot water gets hot, slowly, until the instant it is boiling and there is no time for escape…if you are a lobster. Thankfully yogi is no lobster.
A balance is required even in the yoga industry, the wellness industry, even in the midst of no industry there is a requirement for personal balance and responsibility. There is a requirement for sustenance physical, emotional, mental, spiritual. Yogi needs filled up, especially on days when yogi feels very un sexy.
More yoga is not going to cut it. Complementary stimulation is required.
There are plenty of signs in our students that there is something to attend to on the mat. We give them postures and breathing, we give and give and give. Even our most seasoned practitioners and teachers breakdown because of this one way sieve. Explosions on our face, weight gain from stress and choices to use cheese and bread (aka beer) to manage said stress, itchy skin, sleepless nights, lack of libido, fantasies of car accidents that would leave us unable to go in and teach one more damn class to a room full of bright eyed students….OY.
“There is a room in my heart, made of glass, crystal clear, resonant, fragile, luminescent, vibrational…It houses ether and space, spiritual substance and yet un tapped layers of strength. Agility resides here, textures of compassion & devotional threads tethered to the Atman here they dance. Tears and steam are absorbed here. Jewels of my most Lovable/Loving Self meditate here.”
Yogi went to New York City for healing.
To some the idea of healing in a place like NYC is laughable. For yogi, this is the place she feels passionate, loved, there is space to be alone yet not lonely, there are friends who understand backstory, there are nooks and crannies of memories; there are expressions of her faces on each street corner, individual yet humanity vibrant and breathing in the sun.
Two classes a day, walks in the park, a motorcycle ride, late night apartment music festivals, conversations with strangers about things that matter, cafe beverages with space to observe and breathe in the context of her past. Access to art, culture, stimulation that is random and un biased, an ability to let a subway track spark reignite the fires deep within.
Yogi Felt Inspired.
Beauty exists when the spirit is uplifted. Infinity exists between the facets of our ego; within the duality resides It’s Self. At minimum we must embody total compassion (for our self and others); this creates the fertile environment by which all things flourish.
In the midst of revelation yogi acknowledges there can coexist a knowing and a feeling of disbelief. An intimate conversation with the divine inside reminds yogi to concentrate on the plumb line, the sacred energies from root to crown. Internal and External, Multidimensional.
We are the creators of our matrix and shedding of our skin is transformational and necessary. Self awareness and propulsion are powerful so we must be deliberate in our trajectory. Once we settle into the body we connect with what is subtle; knowledge alone is not enough, we must then do something. Move, act, create, shine, dance, sing, move and meditate or choose to do nothing. Once we turn our “should’s” into “wants” propulsion sets in. Be not afraid of your desires just strive not to be bound by them. See the brilliant illusions that they are, stunning like stained glass. It’s these choices that distinguish a wilting violet from the powerful protectress.
It’s not the prettiest or the brightest that succeed, truly succeed. It is the bravest. It does no good to undertake these practices (yoga or pilgrimage) if you don’t intend to do anything with the information you will glean from them.
A bright personality is attractive. A yogi who inspires others to feel deeply is the teacher I have been searching for, she is the teacher I most wish to be.
To Feel, To Love, To Be Loved.
It is not the rational and tidy, it is not the white picket fence, it is not spreadsheets and charts, it is not what society muses as safe; it is passion and sweat, it is salty air and skin, it is noises that are uncontrollable and deeply resonant. It is not one foot in front of the other in line and on time, it is not an orgasm predictable on a single trajectory climbing towards its’ end; it is a life lived as a dancing sprite on fire and laughing, spiritually centered intertwined with the blessings of experience; maddening . It is combustable yet rooted. It is expressive in word, thought, action.
Even the oceans calm and controlled ebb & flow betrays our trust with violent storms that reorganize our perspective. It is not manufactured drama that I seek but what is real, elegant, grounded, powerful; What is attractive to me in this life is the LIFE. Who’s Interested? Yogi needs some Life Support.