The Rise of Wise

A fingernail sliver of the moon hung behind the branches of a tree. She felt lightened by its presence. 

The night was becoming unfamiliar to her because she was spending less time with it. The days were growing longer and so when darkness set in, she was already worn from the day. She did not pursue the night and it’s delicacies as she did in winter. Rather she tired at twilight and set to settle soon after that. She forgot the silent wisdom it brought.

Though it was Spring, her body didn’t conspire the energy of youth as much. She was stepping back from her compulsions and observing more. Realizations came to her like the weight of a lover's eyes catching hers from afar.  It was subtle and glorious with the volume turned down so she had to settle to hear it.

Yesterday

We didn’t realize we were walking through a portal; leaving one world to find a new one. I can see it now, how everything around us is seemingly the same but entirely different. 

Perhaps my perspective has shifted and I can no longer ignore what I was putting myself through to "succeed." I wasn’t succeeding. 

Yet still I crave to contribute, to be a strategic thinker and risk taker building a world where we are not bound by hierarchy or white supremacy but rather our presence, our ability to show up.

Choose Love

I’ve been moving furniture and purging a lot of stuff lately. It has loosened my energy so much. I truly feel a lot more fluid. Perhaps that’s why I have had so many strange dreams lately. Many leave me feeling anxious or fearful about what I am doing in them - mostly experiencing uncontrollable circumstances around me. I feel scared at every turn. 

It happened last night and I woke up yelling. I knew I needed to get up and write but I didn’t, I was scared. It feels like a muse is calling out to me and I want it to, but I’m too scared to do the hard work, too scared to find out what an interaction would bring. I can’t see its face, I can’t judge it before I let it into my life. I have to trust it without seeing it, without knowing for sure if it’s safe or not.
 
My inability to trust has been with me since I was a child. It feels like jumping off a cliff or trying to fly without knowing if I really can. I anticipate disappointment, of not being able to survive the thing, so I stay on safe ground. I continue to miss opportunity upon opportunity to grow and change and become some new form of myself. 

I always say I will choose love over fear but really I choose fear again and again. Strange isn’t it: that love is the harder choice, the one that requires more courage?

108 leads to a 180

Sunday afternoon I choose a yoga class that fit in to my schedule. It didn't sound inviting to me at all, outside welcoming a new season. As homage to Spring Equinox, the practice would consist of doing 108 sun salutations. 

Pinto beans. The instructor asked me to grab 11 when I went in the studio. As the class began, she explained the beans would help us keep count in sets of ten, the last group only being 8. I realized I was one short.

The first ten we did together as a group. Moving through the sun salutation and clapping at the end of each one to count off. When we reached ten she left us to finish the rest at our own pace.

I don't remember the teens clearly. I started thinking about what age I was at certain numbers. I got lost in counting, of course.

At twenty, I moved my first bean off the mat vertical to the horizontal line on the mat. The solo bean made me picture a boat sail and I thought about making an image with the rest. At 25, I clapped my hands. There was a cover by a female singer of, "I melt with you". It loosened my need to be disciplined in my asana.

At thirty, I took a sip of water and moved another bean. At 39, I thought about how close to present I felt. At 41, there was no option other than to be present. I clapped again.

Then, I began the journey of the unknown. I was faced with 60 some years and keeping track with numbers rather than intuition.

At fifty, I stopped for more water and decided to pound a beans worth out to keep things moving along. I started jumping and rolling through transitions more. Towards 60 I realized I was "cheating" myself because I was muscling through the movements.

I stayed internal and followed my cupped hands a lot as I floated into each new salutation. I would dance my way back up from down dog to forward bend. The meditation was awesome.

At 70, the teacher started to talk about people finishing up. The woman next to me moved at the same pace I did. I sensed her movements and we were in sync many times. Except I noticed she had less beans. I then pounded through the 80s.

At 100 I finished my water. I had one bean left since I didn't move one after the original ten. There were 8 sun salutations to go. Jen recommended we do them slowly to cool down. I ditched the numbers and lead my focus with gratitude to:
  • my feet. 
  • my knees. 
  • my hips. 
  • my stomach. 
  • my heart. 
  • my shoulders. 
  • my throat. 
  • my head. 
I came down on the last bean sweaty. It stuck to the middle of my forehead as I moved through most of the last salutation. I thought it was suiting for the third eye point. Then legs up the wall to restore (my nightly favorite) and svasana.

She said we could return the beans to the bag or take them with us. I forgot them at first when I let the studio and went back to pick them up. I think I'll plant them and see what sprouts.