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There are many minifestations of Love - puppy love, parental love, divine love, etc. All evoke a feeling that everything is right in the world. When we fall in love, everything is beautiful, everything is right in the world. It's like fireworks are bursting forth from our heart.
Over time we discover that Love is more like a pilot light - it's always there, always on - waiting to ignite the inner flame that recognizes beauty in the world.
Yoga...is union..union with everything - it is the ultimate incarnation and realization of love - divine love. And it is in all of us. We use our practice to ignite this love, tapping into our pilot light to stoke the fire of prana and feel the warm glow of love.
I would say my practice reminds me every day of love, of unity, of all that is beautiful in the world. Yoga is my doorway to love.
I walked the labyrinth one morning in Mexico repeating the mantra "there is nothing to do, nothing to be, nothing to fix" as I turned each corner moving toward the center. When I arrived I planted my feet and looked toward the horizon and saw the tiniest glimmer of the sun rising behind the clouds. As I stood there just observing, the orange glimmer grew bigger and bigger and I was hoping to see the full sunrise. Even in that moment I was trying to force things. Even though I could see there will still clouds and it was not ready to emerge completely. So I closed my eyes. I went inside.
I had an image of the two palm tress framing the spot where the sun had been - like they were burned into my eyelids - but there was no light where they had been. As I stood with my eyes closed I went back to my mantra - nothing to do, nothing to be, nothing to fix. I then began to see a small green glimmer in the center of my forehead. The more I tried to make it bigger and stronger, the more it faded. When I was able to just be and not try, it would shine more brightly. hmmm...
I stood in the center for a while, meditating on the light and just being with it, or at least trying to be. I wanted to open my eyes and see the sun in full expression but could see that I was forcing it and that I would open them too soon. So I waited. When I finally felt a stillness I allowed myself to open my eyes. I saw the sun with one small fragment hidden by the clouds. And then the sun rose into full view and I started to cry. I realized that the light is always there and ready to be seen, sometimes it is just clouded over.
As I stood there I began intellectualizing my experience again. What did the green light mean? What did the orange and red mean? Which Chakra is green? It hit me that green is the heart chakra. I started crying again. The truth, I saw, comes from the heart. And I know this - even when it is just a glimmer, even when it is clouded over, that tiny bit of truth is still there.
As I exited the center of the labyrinth I began retracing my footsteps. Even then, I realizd I was forcing things, trying to step in the same footsteps I had left behind. Instead I decided to let my feet land where they would. To see my past footsteps but not need to be walking in them. It was hard, and I had to keep starting over, reminding myself just to be and not to try.
As I neared the exit of the labyrinth, a few people had come to do the walk themselves. I wanted to stay inside my self and avoid contact at first, but instead I looked into their eyes. When I looked into Marlese's eyes she said, "you look Beautiful."
What I found in my time in Mexico is that Baron Baptiste has synthesized the teachings from the lineage of yoga into a program that speaks to 21st century man (or woman). His teachings will shift your vision. Literally. The way you see things will change. The things you are unwilling or unable to see will come into view.
His truth is the truth of Patanjali and the truth taught by the Buddha. We are all caught in an illusion created by our thoughts. Our interpretation of the world around us is driven by the lower self. When we can see this, and bring an awareness to this, we can begin to see things as they truly are. We can begin to see that all we really know is no-thing. And that's OK. We just need to Be.
Sometimes we need to roll down the shades and stop looking outside and instead look at what's inside.
I've been here in Tulum, Mexico studying with Baron Baptiste for about 12 days now and thought I might share some of what I've been doing. Last week I was attending the Level 1 Teacher Training Bootcamp. What?? More teacher training? Yes, I know, I have been to a few others already, but this time I came for different reasons. I came to see if Baron was "all that." I have been practicing his style of yoga for almost a year now, and needed to see if I was ready to get off the fence and dedicate myself to this method.
The answer is yes - Baron is "all that" and I have found my teacher. Last week, I realized that he has all of the qualities I am looking for in a teacher. He speaks from experience and inner knowing. He has a gift for sharing the wisdom of the ancients without getting bogged down in referring to scripture like the sutras. He knows the ancient teachings and lives by them (as well as any human can) and speaks from experience rather than telling us what other people say. This whole week has been an exercise in what Patanjali called Swadhyaya (Self Study), though he has never used those words. Our time on the mat is physically intense, but our time in self-inquiry and dialog is even more intense.
Baron is compassionate even when he is challenging people. And it feels authentic. Really. I have a great deal of respect for him and have decided to keep going on this path. This week I stayed for the GREAT program - which is an assisting program. I am learning some cool stuff and setting myself on the path and opening the possibility to assist Baron at future workshops. I plan to sign up for the Level 2 TT this year in May or August. I am excited about the possibilities for me in this. Studying with Baron, I think I can really break through and become the teacher and student of yoga that I want to be.
In my last blog post I ended by saying "It may sound morbid, but for me, the practice of yoga is about preparing for death. I practice yoga hoping to find peace of mind when I am faced with the loss of my loved ones as well as my own earthly life."
This week my practice was put to the test.
I have spent the last 9 days staring death in the face, watching as my grandmother made the transition from this life to the beyond. As a hospice volunteer, I have done this on many other occasions, but this time it was personal. It was my grandmother who was picking at the sheets and talking to people that I could not see.
When I arrived, my grandmother was in the hospital, hooked up to machines, and my mother was agitated and scared. Her mother had been a vibrant, independent woman for 88 years and my mother was not prepared for the inevitable. She said to me "I have no frame of reference for this. We have been a healthy family. I don't know what to do." I am writing this post so that maybe one person who reads it will be better prepared and will not suffer some of the mental anguish that my family has gone through. WARNING: If you are not ready to hear about what happens when a person makes a natural transition from life to death, you should stop reading now.
Volunteering at Hospice Savannah, I have learned what the signs of approaching death are and I have learned that while every death is unique, there is a pattern to what happens to a person as they near the end of their life. Understanding the process of dying has made this time for me much easier than it might otherwise have been. Note that what I will describe below is what I have read in many publications about the dying process, it is also based on my personal experience. Not everybody will go through this exact process, but I have seen it over and over again.
As a person nears the end of life, they turn from the external to the internal. They will stop eating and become detached from their surroundings. When this happened, my mother became very upset and sometimes combative, arguing with her about needing to eat, even though she had no appetite. She was also saddened that Grandma seemed to be giving up, and did not have her usual zeal for life. Grandma was not refusing to eat to be combative, her body just had no need or desire for the nutrition. Likewise, her focus was moving inward, rather than looking to the outside world. In Death, as in our Yoga practice, we look inward for peace.
After the initial withdrawal from food and surroundings, my grandmother became very weak and unable to get out of bed. Her movements became agitated and she would pick incessantly at her clothing and sheets. To me it seemed she was knitting, and sometimes as if she was petting her beloved cat, Mattie. I have no idea if she was aware of her hand movements, but I have seen this pattern in many patients at Hospice. She also began reciting names and numbers repeatedly. One day it was the numbers 6-3-2, another afternoon my mother came home asking my grandfather if he knew who Mary was, because she had been repeating her name over and over.
In a way it reminds me of the practice of Japa meditation with a Mala. Japa Meditation is the practice of saying a single sound or phrase over and over. This repetition provides a foundation that helps the mind to gradually disconnect with the external world. The use of a set of prayer beads, or Mala, provides a "physical" anchor as the practitioner proceeds to higher levels of the practice. As you become more and more disconnected from the external world through meditation, the Mala is meant to serve as your physical connection with this world.
I can recall times in my life when I was inadvertently using mantra meditation to calm myself down in dangerous or frightening situations. When I was 16 and fell off a cliff and dislocated my shoulder, I started reciting a nursery rhyme over and over while I waited for help. This is the one of the mind's natural responses in times of stress. The wonderful thing is that if we know this practice we can choose to do Japa Meditation, even if it is just to calm ourselves down during our daily stresses.
After a period of time without food and water, the body becomes very still, but the mind (and spirit) is still active. My grandmother did not move very much in the last few days I was with her, but even when she could not open her eyes, she would acknowledge my presence. I would talk to her about times we had together and she would sometimes verbally agree. They say the sense of hearing is the last to go, and that the person dying can hear and sense what is said in their surroundings up until the very end.
We got a phone call from the nurse at 3:30 am on Thursday, telling us that we needed to come to the nursing facility as soon as we could. When we arrived at her room a little before 4:00 am, she was resting peacefully but her hands had turned blue and her breathing was erratic. They call this Cheyne-Stokes breathing, and it is usually a good sign that the end is very near. When I spoke to her and touched her forehead her eyebrows seemed to move a little and I could tell she knew I was there, even though her eyes were open but she was clearly not seeing me. As we sat with her, the room became peaceful and her breathing slowed. At one point my grandfather touched her shoulder and asked if she was still breathing. She took one more breath and then let go.
We knew this was coming, so there was no surprise, no outburst of tears. We spent a few moments with her and then called the nurse.
The afternoon before she died I did my yoga practice outside on the patio at my parents' house. As I rolled out my mat I had hoped to do a strong 90 minute Baptiste style power yoga practice to work out some of the kinks and sluggishness from sitting in hospital rooms for days. As I rested in child's pose, trying to let go of my thoughts, I felt drawn to a more peaceful, meditative practice. Even though my ego and intellect was telling me I needed to move and breath vigorously, my spirit was feeling peaceful. I made my way through about 20 minutes of long slow postures and then rested into Savasana. Savasana translates to "Corpse pose" in English. As i lay there as a corpse I drifted into one of the most peaceful savasanas I have ever had. When I opened my eyes an unknown amount of time later, the blue sky was sparking as if there were fireflies all around me. At first I thought it was just the initial transition from dark to light, but the tiny lights persisted. It was as if I was seeing the energy in the air above me. I kept closing my eyes thinking that I would lose this view once I reopened them, but it remained. I thought to myself that I was actually witnessing the universal energy that pervades everything. I was seeing the unity in everything I was experiencing Yoga! Hmmmmm....
In conclusion. I think my practice is working. The last 9 days have been quite a journey, but they have not been filled with fear or sadness. At the end of her life, my Grandmother was surrounded by love and full of love. She was ready for whatever comes next and made a peaceful transition when the time came. I feel that peace now as I look out the window and see one her beloved cardinals sitting on the bird feeder.
