Last night my teacher was sharing so much wisdom that I felt like my heart was going to explode. I am not sure if it was because I was needing to hear all of it, or because my fellow yogis were asking deeply personal questions, or because I am traveling through a real dark spot in life these days. Whatever the reason, everything he said was like the most delicious and warming meal, and I was starving.
We are underneath another foot of snow in Boston. I am underneath a personal state of confusion and intensity after a sequence of losses and blows since the start of the new year. It feels like I have the tiniest shovel and the thinnest winter jacket. I am trying to dig out even though I am wet and sick and freezing. Anyone else ever feel like that?
I am so lucky to have my sangha (community of yogis) and my Babaji. While everyone in my life is telling me to take antidepressants, my teacher is telling me to expand inside. My teacher is helping me find the right mantra (Om Namah Shivaya) instead of repeating my own (you don't want to know). When the snow piles on and the wind stings my face, Babaji's words are like a Hawaiian sunrise, thawing my soul.
He guided us through some Pranayama (breathing practices). He talked about great loss. He talked about doing the practice with vigor when we feel empty. He talked about the dangers of falling into depression, or the abyss, as it's referred to in yogic philosophy. He talked about how the practice can feel like the most shallow, unsatisfying, grueling endeavor. He talked about the release that happens when you get just beyond the breath. He talked about how we are all here to help each other grow.
Thank you to my friends and family who are helping me to find the love that I know is inside me. Thank you to the people who really know me and understand that spending all day with traumatized youth is traumatizing. Thank you, centuries of yogis, for upholding the vibration so that we can all benefit from it. I have been feeding off the vibration, and can't wait to start contributing to it's glorious sound again.
