Many yoga poses focus on opening your heart and bearing your
heart to the sky. I bend, I sweat, I
open my heart chakra and let it flow, and I cry. I grieve.
I come to the mat, the meditation cushion, a book, my blog, and have to
consciously open my heart again.
With each drop of freely flowing sweat, I am cleansed. Each tear purifies my heart. In joy and in pain, I move through the flow,
and at the same time, am still, coming back in each second to awareness, reminding
myself to be present.
Being willing to stay open and aware and not lose ourselves,
our values, or our passions is hard. T.
Thorn Coyle speaks on this today as well. Sometimes it hurts, and we experience, pain, anger, indignation.
The Morrigan told me I had to be more blood thirsty. I had to thirst for life force, and more
intense engagement of the act and process of living. Even in menstruation, there is pain, and
there is flow, the more we fight the movement of the flow, the more pain we
find ourselves in. It is an interesting paradox
in the balance between the stillness of the now and the observation of constant
movement and change.
I read an amazing article yesterday on Elephant Journal about how pain is our teacher. It perfectly describes the process I have been engaged in this year.
In class yesterday we talked about staying as the caterpillar
in the chrysalis. In the goopy
formlessness of potential, and the utter, unrecognizable transformation of metamorphosis
and change, we find comfort at our center, protected by silk. Years from now you will not recognize
yourself. You are not who you used to be. Your memories of what you were as a caterpillar
will be like dreams for your new life as a butterfly. For now, if you dare to let go of what was,
what may be, then you can be free. And
in your freedom, your spirit will fly.