Wednesday in December

It’s like trying to hold water in my

cupped hands. It’s like trying to capture

sunshine in a bottle or find the end

of a rainbow. As a child, I was con-

vinced it could be done. It’s like owning

an Indian in the Cupboard, or find-

ing gold in the dry riverbed. It feels

like chasing a speeding train or losing

my virginity—something I can not get back—

this feeling of getting older. Growing up

they call it. 

My yoga teacher, Rachel, talks about stabilizing the periphery in any given pose, in order to open up the core of the body. “When our foundation is stable, rooted” she says, “it affords our inner body, our core, our heart more opening.” I take this principle and apply it to my life—I stabilize my periphery, my world, my foundation of who I am in this life, so that I am able to breathe in the suffering of the world, transforming it into light, which I then exhale.

I was at a yoga class the other day—I decided to branch out from my normal routine and chose a different yoga teacher. This was the first mistake. Like any class, the teacher makes it or breaks it. I was seated on a blanket, hands folded in front of my heart when they said, “Now breath in and exhale all of your negativity.” My eyes flew open there was a visceral sense of rejection to this request from the teacher. My mind screamed, “This is wrong! This is all wrong! We should not be breathing out negativity, there is enough of it in the world already!” Luckily I tamed my mind and sat through the class that was very enjoyable and got my blood pumping. However, not all yoga classes are created equal. It’s all subjective , and a matter of personal preference, yet if yoga is the goal, I would like to participate in class which contributes light, not sucks it out of the atmosphere, that’s all I’m saying. And since no one reads my blog anyway, I feel that it is totally okay to go on a bit of a “Shinay rant.” Besides, this is life according to me, not anyone else. Go start your own blog if you have something you’d like to share with the world.

Back to stabilizing the periphery: This goes hand-in-hand with the credo of maintaining balance; in order to do so, one must first “hug in” as Rachel puts it. “Hug the muscle to the bone before we extend out.” In this philosophy we create muscle energy, allowing the muscle to engage before we stretch. This action of engaging our muscles is a support system for our skeletal structure. Again, I love this concept because I can apply it to my daily routine. I think of it as collecting energy my own before extending myself to others. Not mean this in a selfish way, I merely suggest that in order to be of service (which is the main goal in my life) I must first hug in. If I give without replenishing, without attention to self-care, without remembering gratitude, there will eventually be nothing left to give and I won’t be able to stretch any more.

Tonight we practiced handstand (Adho Mukha Vrksasana) and back bend (Urdhva Dhanurasana), two poses that take a lot of muscle energy and focused attention. “To merge our intentions with our actions,” Rachel said, “is the science of consciousness. We must start here, with the way in which we talk to ourselves. It’s in the sequential manifestation of life—” How we choose to take action both an and off my yoga mat. With the practice of yoga, I learn to walk my talk, to move about through the world with cultivated strength, practice at hugging in. I examine the mechanics of my body and of my heart in order to extend, reach out, give back. Ultimately that is what I wish to do—infuse the world with more light. 

We all have them

These slivers of human-

ity

Machines cranking out sim-

ilar responses to circumstanc-

es

Paradox drips from the leaves of shade tree-

s

Because we are all human.

I ran past the strip of bars this morning at 7:30-

am

The stench of stale alcohol and musty, molding bod-

ies

Met my nose and made me want to wretch

Turning the corner, three withered faces stared at me-

Eyes sunken in.

Their dirty exterior barely hanging on wi-

th threads of skin

Around the eyes an-

d mouth

Loose and droop-

Ing.

Baskets of sorrow

Catching salty tears.

I sucked in hard trying no-

t to stare, the cold air burn-

ing my lungs.

A sliver of human-

ity come to save me. 

Another Kind of Love

when clouds come over and sun fails to shine, what else is there?

when my heart yearns and longs for expansion, where do I go?

there is a story to be told, and we each have a task, and to know, is to listen.

often i feel worthless, often i feel inadequate, often i feel as though if i could only change a single thing about myself, then, I would be able.

shadows start to move behind the flicker of a single candle, a single candle is all it takes to light a dark room.

how lucky we are, you and i, to have come to this work so young.

the worth of being able to sit with ourselves for some time each day, is priceless.

in this body, for this life, i must remember to shine.

that’s why i have you, my friend, to remind me of my worth.

that’s why we surround ourselves with others of a similar caliber, to remind ourselves that we are worth it.

why are the ones i love, always so far away from me?

is this my work in this lifetime, to remember and reach out over a distance?

i held my niece yesterday, she’s 8 months old.

to be in the presence of a child, such innocent love, is a prayer in itself.

to spend time around her filled me with expansive joy.

there’s nothing like the laugh of a child, to bring us to our knees in gratitude.