Practice for the sheer joy
of being free. Practice
to be empty of “me, me me”.
Silent, open, and infinitely vast,
practice to remember what is real.
Practice to give yourself up
and receive the wordless truth.
What you get will be useless –
not the coin of any realm –
but oh, the glory of
those moments – being whole.
– Danna Faulds
Did you notice the pink and violet skies, and how overgrown wild flowers are abuzz with bees and butterflies? At where I live, lockdown measures begin to ease today. There is a sense of anticipation with a hefty dose of trepidation. Soon, we will convene in our new-normal selves. When it is business as usual, when you can breathe freely, mask free, what stories of change, loss and triumph will you tell? Will you continue into growth or retreat into familiar safety?
I begin the second half of 2020 offering Yin yoga sessions as a more sensory approach to the process of introspection and self-inquiry. It appears my yoga journey has come full circle, a destined homecoming of sorts. Yet I am stepping into a new world, one that is rebalancing and changing.
Outside, Piscean Age belief systems are crumbling, albeit not without a fight. Humanity is facing a new dawn. Mother Earth matters. Every voice matters. The soul is colorless, genderless and oh so free. It is time to let go of archaic beliefs that keep us in a state of separation. As a human race bound by collective suffering and opportunity for growth, we are asked to step forward to make new choices to experience wholeness.
Inside, I have been feeling my way into practicing and teaching Kundalini yoga differently since allegations of misconduct against Yogi Bhajan surfaced a few months ago. This necessary soul searching has been sobering and heartbreaking. It remains to be seen how I will eventually teach the practice so it is aligned with values I hold dear. I still bookend my day with a meditation in this tradition. There is a space in between my profound love for this powerful practice and equally deep disappointment with the fall from grace of a figure widely regarded as a guru. This is the space I am resting, between my breaths, awaiting the unfolding and eventual answer.
If there is one thing my spiritual practice has taught me, it is this: It is okay to feel the enormity of my feelings. It is okay to feel grief, rage and despair. It is okay not to be okay and positive all the time. This is why we practice. So nothing stays stuck and morph into a cancerous mass. We practice not just for peace of mind. We practice to have a life. A life we want to live. A life filled with freedom, clarity and strength to honor our authenticity and truth.
The more I pour myself into the physical practice of yoga, the more its subtleties permeate into other areas of my life. The deeper my energy medicine practice, the more I appreciate a multidimensional approach to dissolve the programing and conditioning in our system. Yin yoga to me is more than an antidote to our masculine, task-oriented lifestyle, or prescription for release of issues in our tissues. The slow practice is the perfect meditation tool to tune into the intricacies [Y]inside.
I see Yin yoga as an art in deep listening. How do we navigate sensations on the mat so we can listen to the stories inside that are longing to be heard. How do we sit through that hamstring tension so we can tend to strong emotions outside of the calm of the studio. How can we cultivate this sensitivity on the mat so the refined awareness connects us to our inner observer and our greatest teacher, the guru residing in our hearts.
Yoga is not nailing that deep back bend, or attaining the perfect symmetry. With this beautifully complex gift of a human body, can you touch your core to find your way h[om]e, to your unique you?