Grace and then some tennis
I wake up looking for my digital wristwatch. It beeps 3 times before I find it strapped to my wrist. Wow, that was quick, I think to myself. It feels like I just fell asleep. The dream is instantly forgotten this time. Dogs are stirring, they let out soft cries, scratch on the door and are probably eating their foam bed. One of these days I will have to read these fast forward puppies the story of Hansel and Gretel. Hop out of bed; let them outside into the sunshine along with their parents. Hop back into bed and fall asleep for another hour. Hop out of bed and feed them.
Dune Buggy starts up with its lawnmower on steroids whine and we zoom around the turns up the hill to the estate. Holla requested my didjeridoo services for her yin yoga class this morning. Tony will be improvising with his tablas and guitar. I love playing with him. He has a magical mystical combination that provides an arena and launching pad for my dreamtime explorations. The class flys by for me. It is one of those performances for me where I make some kind of shift. Tony plays with such pure abandon, waterfall love, cosmic sincerity, ecstatic expertise and simple beauty. All I have to do is find the spaces in between. The spaces we share I try to enhance. During shavasana, I chant Tibetan Budhist monk style: "Om mani padme hung... Om ah hung... Om gati gati para gati para sumu gati bodhi sva ha... Om Ganesha... Om Bramha... Om Vishnu... Om Shiva... Om Shiva Shakti..." Through out, I go from periods of mental silnence to remembering my intention to be more warm to others. Less judgmental. Love myself more and my capacity to love others increases.
I don't report every thing about my self here on BS. Consciously chosen to leave out the parts of my internal struggle, Yes, I admit that I edit and censor my posts. This is done to make the daily dose more palatable. Like a chef who cuts off the rotten part of a vegetable and drops it in the compost bucket.
So, even though I am getting paid to help host a cool yoga retreat with lots of cool people, part of me is in pain. Suffering. Not being fully present. Trying hard to hide the resentment and put on a happy face. But it is there. With each encounter, I catch the first split second of my internal reaction and it is rotten. This must be cut out and put into the compost bin. But how?
One way is for me to perform with the didj. Upon completion of the class, I sat and acknowledged the applause and appreciation from the class. Moments later I felt tears well up in my eyes and pool down my cheeks. The sadness beneath the resentment released like an infection under the skin. I moved into child's pose and let the emotion express itself. A few people came up and thanked me personally. It was nice; I could see that their experience gave them joy.
I felt a lot better. The dirty window of my limbic system has been washed. An unwanted aspect of myself seems to be purged. Grace came in like a cool summer breeze in the heat of the day like the breath of God.
Devin and I meet on the tennis court at 5 PM. We warm up for 45 minutes and then play a set and 4 games. The first set goes by fairly quickly. I manage to take it 6-1. My mood is less intense. This could be because of an hour nap before hand. Any way, towards the end I let out some good yells. That's better, I think to myself. We get to 2-2 before it is time for me to take care of the doggies.
Dune Buggy starts up with its lawnmower on steroids whine and we zoom around the turns up the hill to the estate. Holla requested my didjeridoo services for her yin yoga class this morning. Tony will be improvising with his tablas and guitar. I love playing with him. He has a magical mystical combination that provides an arena and launching pad for my dreamtime explorations. The class flys by for me. It is one of those performances for me where I make some kind of shift. Tony plays with such pure abandon, waterfall love, cosmic sincerity, ecstatic expertise and simple beauty. All I have to do is find the spaces in between. The spaces we share I try to enhance. During shavasana, I chant Tibetan Budhist monk style: "Om mani padme hung... Om ah hung... Om gati gati para gati para sumu gati bodhi sva ha... Om Ganesha... Om Bramha... Om Vishnu... Om Shiva... Om Shiva Shakti..." Through out, I go from periods of mental silnence to remembering my intention to be more warm to others. Less judgmental. Love myself more and my capacity to love others increases.
I don't report every thing about my self here on BS. Consciously chosen to leave out the parts of my internal struggle, Yes, I admit that I edit and censor my posts. This is done to make the daily dose more palatable. Like a chef who cuts off the rotten part of a vegetable and drops it in the compost bucket.
So, even though I am getting paid to help host a cool yoga retreat with lots of cool people, part of me is in pain. Suffering. Not being fully present. Trying hard to hide the resentment and put on a happy face. But it is there. With each encounter, I catch the first split second of my internal reaction and it is rotten. This must be cut out and put into the compost bin. But how?
One way is for me to perform with the didj. Upon completion of the class, I sat and acknowledged the applause and appreciation from the class. Moments later I felt tears well up in my eyes and pool down my cheeks. The sadness beneath the resentment released like an infection under the skin. I moved into child's pose and let the emotion express itself. A few people came up and thanked me personally. It was nice; I could see that their experience gave them joy.
I felt a lot better. The dirty window of my limbic system has been washed. An unwanted aspect of myself seems to be purged. Grace came in like a cool summer breeze in the heat of the day like the breath of God.
Devin and I meet on the tennis court at 5 PM. We warm up for 45 minutes and then play a set and 4 games. The first set goes by fairly quickly. I manage to take it 6-1. My mood is less intense. This could be because of an hour nap before hand. Any way, towards the end I let out some good yells. That's better, I think to myself. We get to 2-2 before it is time for me to take care of the doggies.
0 waves:
Post a Comment
<< Home