dissolution

Today I dissolved. My body disappeared and the Eternal I was left. And Eternal I was dancing this graceful dance, gliding along waves of energy. There was nothing and everything and I was both at once. I expanded yet I was empty. I lost awareness of the physical world. I ceased to move myself into postures, I surrendered to the flow around and within me.

I found myself in a seated meditation and, where last week I cried at my own suffering, today I cried with joy because I realized I am Love. And I am in love with everything I see. I am filled to the brim with gratitude. The Universe resides within me. You reside within me.

We are One.

Namaste. Jai bhagwan. Sat nam.

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intend to be a cloud

“Souls cross ages like clouds cross skies, an’ tho’ a cloud’s shape nor hue nor size don’t stay the same, it’s still a cloud. An’ so is a soul. Who can say where the cloud’s  blowed from or who the soul’ll be ‘morrow?” – David Mitchell, from Cloud Atlas

“I’m reminding myself I’m a cloud.

I can be pure, deep, full and crisp. Or I can be wispy and fleeting. Or I am slow and strong, or maybe I am fast and breezy. Perhaps I am forboding and sulky. Perhaps, at times, I rain torrents.

I never cease, though. I always Am. And so goes my soul.

Surrender. Permission to be any cloud on any day and still be a cloud. Permission to be anything on any day and still be meaningfully me. Permission to float and remain in my oneness while all else changes. The unchanging constant that is That.

I am That.” – Personal journal entry, June 21, 2010

I don’t know if it’s whatever is clogging up my nose and lungs right now. Maybe it’s lunar energy. Maybe it’s all the yoga unlocking blocked energy in my body. Maybe it’s a combination of everything. But the fact of the matter is, since the night before last I am experiencing some anxiety. I don’t feel in tip top mental form. I feel a bit emotional, a bit insecure.

I was mulling it all over this morning, adding fuel to the fire by being upset that I felt this way at all. I wanted peace, I wanted unwavering contentedness. I wanted to return to the place I was at after Kripalu: total inner stillness. And then, this morning, a most random thing happened. I noticed that my old journal had found it’s way to my bedside table. Confused at this observation (literally, I’m still retracing all the steps I took to bring it off the bookshelf and to my bedside), I picked it up and opened it to a random page. The journal opened to the entry I’ve quoted above.

It was the precisely the right message at precisely the right time. I realized I am attaching myself, clinging to “wants.” I realized that I need, in this moment, to give myself permission to be the expression of whatever cloud it is I happen to be right now. What’s more is that I have to back this permission up with the knowledge that I am still a cloud. I am still Me. My true essence is unchanging. So without attaching to, engaging and becoming lost in what emotions I am experiencing, I can step back as the compassionate witness and just watch the experience.

Again I receive the message to open my heart to what is in the moment. Do not push away or cling to or run from the opportunity to experience. Clouds float effortlessly in the sky, they do not dig their heels into the atmosphere in refusal to move forward.

And so, today my intent, my yoga, is to practice being the cloud I am in this moment. Whatever form I take, I float with ease and aware of my Cloudness, my I Am-ness. I am immovable. I am That, around which all else ebbs and flows.

the lesson will be learned

I woke up today feeling, to my own surprise, under the weather. My throat was dry and itchy and my nose was stuffed up. I decided to make my asana practice today one of gentility and restoration. So I found a sequence meant to boost immunity and I stepped onto my mat.

You can find the full sequence from Yoga Journal here. It’s an interesting sequence because it says to stay in the poses, which include down dog, sirsasana and uttanasana for 2 to 5 minutes.

As I went through the sequence and because I knew I was trying to take extra care of myself today, my intention was to be gentle and soft. And it turns out you have to be when you’re in down dog for 4 minutes. I was moving into postures where I would normally power up and make myself as strong as possible. Inevitably, about a minute in, the realization that I was going to be there for 3 more minutes would hit me. Suddenly, powering up for this practice seemed to be something I couldn’t keep up. So I kept asking myself, “how can I make this posture sustainable?” The only option I had available was to soften.

The lesson of my practice today started revealing itself to me: typically when left to my own devices, my asana practice is relatively and organically powerful. It moves, it flows, it includes strong postures. It’s how I transport myself to my edge. It’s how I build my sense of strength and self-confidence.

Yesterday I talked about “boldly walking past my edge” and taking the dare to be greater, to be vulnerable, to be open. Today I realized that, once I walk past my edge, the approach must be wholly different. The approach must transform into one of softness. Instead of just sort of running past the edge just to say I’d done so, I see now that it is monumentally important to stop and notice what is there along the way. I began to understand that on the other side of the edge, one mustn’t be so firm and rigid and unyielding. Rather, one should become softer and pliable. It’s like that saying, “those who are flexible shall not be bent out of shape.”

So as I moved through this practice, I was able to start finding real space and silence in each asana. Staying there for 4 minutes gave me time to notice every little thing that was happening, and the space to adjust, to soften, to sustain. I felt like I was getting to know these classic asanas in a way I had never known them before. My whole body and mind began to let go. I came Home over and over again.

By the time I was done I felt more energized, more alert, more centered. I was truly surprised at the effect this practice had had on me. I realized that just because I can power through poses doesn’t mean I always should. That the beauty of presence is that it gives you space to readjust your approach. That softness actually makes you stronger.

I expressed gratitude that this immunity boosting sequence was having such a grand effect on both my physical and my spiritual health.

And to cap it all off, once I was done practicing, I looked at my phone and realized that in Hartford at the moment there is an air quality alert including fine particulates in the air. So my belief that I was nursing an oncoming illness was actually incorrect. I could only laugh, because if I had known that beforehand, I would have engaged in an entirely different practice today. I wouldn’t have slowed down. I laughed, because, it couldn’t have been made more clear: when the Universe wants to teach you a lesson, it will find a way to do so, and probably with a sense of humor too.

the dare

“It is not because things are difficult that we do not dare; it is because we do not dare that they are difficult.” Seneca

Today life is teaching me how important it is to dare. When my life was absorbed into the black hole that is an eating disorder, it was because I didn’t dare. To feel, to fail, to love, to surrender, to believe. I remember when I first started going to yoga in Indiana a few years back, I was attending 2 classes a day. And then one day, for about a week straight I stopped going. Unbeknownst to me, all of that yoga was unleashing blocked energy in my body. It brought up these strange emotions that I couldn’t name and therefore, I believed, I couldn’t deal with. Every time I thought about going to a yoga class, I stopped myself. I didn’t dare. To sit in silence with my fear, to feel vulnerable, to put myself out there for others to see. In both of those instances, life felt so difficult, so scary, so unattainable. And I felt so incapable. How could I possibly dare, when the consequences could be failure, rejection or heart break?

My asana practice has been full of heart openers lately. Subsequently, the past few days I’ve been riding several different waves of emotion. I feel like tears are waiting right behind my eyes for any reason to spill forth. Today when I went to get on my yoga mat, I felt this pang of fear. I spent most of last night and this afternoon feeling needy, clingy, almost desperate. I knew what I needed more than anything was to get on my mat, to move and to meditate. I needed to meet my fear and transform it through love. Somewhat begrudgingly, I got on my yoga mat. I picked up Rolf Gates’ Meditations for the Mat. It’s one of my favorite books and is becoming my companion on this #365yoga journey. I opened to day 27 (even though I’m technically on day 22…) and read the quote with which I opened this blog.

Immediately my asana practice was given life and inspiration. Stepping into presence is only difficult if I do not dare to do so. If I allow fear to define my life, then life will become about running away instead of rooting down. So I knew that I had to dare. As I moved through a slow, steady, flowing practice I engaged in more heart openers. I knew I needed them, despite my concern as to what feelings they would conjure up. I dared to open up, I dared to surrender.

As I sat in my meditation, I started to understand that was my unwillingness to dare that was causing me to feel needy/ clingy/ desperate. I realized that I’ve approached an edge. I approached this edge before in my life. One time I went to the edge and boldly walked past it as though it weren’t there at all. Later, as I lay heartbroken and my soul felt as though it were in peices, I knew it was because I walked past that edge that I had opened myself up to the hurt, to the vulnerability and to the sadness. That was the only time I ever let that happen. Since then I have either played at this edge before turning and running away or just plain avoided the edge all together.

And then, sitting in meditation, I suddenly realized, I am back. I am once again at this edge. The fear of the possibilities wants to paralyze me. If I step forward, if I open my heart to this, I could be inviting in the worst pain I’ve ever felt in my life. It made me want to build a brick wall around my heart. To fortify it with locks and chains. It made me want to hide.

Then I heard mySelf repeat the mantra: “…it is because we do not dare that things are difficult.” There, standing at my edge, I paused. I didn’t move. I didn’t react. I paused and surrendered every reason not to dare. I paused and I saw every reason to move forward, to dare.

I dared to give up the story I’d tried writing about how things would turn out. I dared to step with an open heart into presence. I dared greatness and unconditional Love to step into my life. I dared to accept my own worthiness. I dared to expand, to push my edge back.

And now, for all to see, I am going to, once more, boldly walk past my edge. Who knows how this will all turn out? Who is to say what will happen? The answer is, no one. But I realized today that I could “protect” myself from pain, or I could walk forward with my head held high and my heart reaching skyward and welcome in a beauty the likes of which I’ve never known and may never have the chance to know again. I know, in this moment, there is only one option.

And so, like that, I am taking the dare.

 

 

habits

I realized earlier that I started my #365yoga journey exactly 3 weeks ago today.  That means every day since January 5th – when I finally jumped on the bandwagon- I have practiced yoga in one form or another. Every single day I have sat down in meditation. Many of those days I have gotten on my yoga mat at home. A few times I have gone to varying studios for a class. And sometimes still I have not done an asana practice at all, for the point of the journey is to check in, live authentically and, through presence and attention, discover what is appropriate at any given time.

I figure today is an important day to mark seeing as 3 weeks equals 21 days and, scientifically speaking, that means I’ve officially formed a “habit.” A habit of practicing presence. (Emphasis on “PRACTICING.”) Now that I’m at that milestone, I wanted to take the opportunity to reflect on my experience while my journey is sort of exiting it’s “newborn” stage.

So today I started thinking, “what has changed? What is different now, after 3 weeks?” At first I thought that not much had changed. I’m still here, still plugging along. But this is a typical response of mine, to think that the things I do aren’t necessarily monumental or life changing or spectacular. So I sat for a bit longer and I waded past those shallow, yet murky waters until realization dawned on me that I had actually begun swimming in an ocean of greatness.

21 days ago the following things were true:

  • I was wishing that yoga had a majority role in my life again like it did when I lived in Indiana.
  • The thought of teaching yoga at a studio again was an idea that seemed impossible and scary. I didn’t even know how to get started.
  • I often felt tired and lethargic. I didn’t feel physically strong at all.
  • I was preoccupied with all the things that were “wrong” with me. I wanted to change things so that I could be “good enough.”
  • I had no direction for my life, my yoga, anything.

And now, after 3 weeks of living my yoga moment to moment, the above list feels so very far in the past that I can hardly remember what it was like. Now the following things are my truths:

  • Yoga has become the adventure it was when I stepped onto my mat for the first time many years ago. It is fun, exploratory and extremely uplifting. And it is the foundation of everything I do, once more.
  • I sent out several emails and have already met with 2 different studios about becoming a teacher there. I have 2 sample classes I’ll be teaching starting this weekend with strong possibilities of being added to studio schedules shortly thereafter. I am still in talks with 1 or 2 other places about teaching as well. It hasn’t been scary or difficult at all. In fact, I find myself reminded why I started teaching in the first place and the ease with which it has happened assures me the Universe and I are aligned. This is my Dharma.
  • I think my new middle name is Sattva. I don’t have too much energy and I am no longer lethargic. I feel more grounded and centered than I have in ages. My physical yoga practice is knocking my socks off day after day. I have unleashed this ridiculous amount of core strength and recently just mastered a sequence I never thought I’d be strong enough or have the courage to do. (Dropping back from headstand to wheel!)
  • I see myself as a beautiful energy that glows and dances with everyone who crosses my path. I don’t desire to change and what’s more, I love every bit of myself on every level. I treat my body like the masterpiece it is. I believe in my worthiness and because the Universe loves synchronicity, it has blessed me with returning love and beauty to me a million times over.
  • I have discovered my Dharma in a way I never thought possible. I know where my yoga career is headed and I know exactly what I’m to do to help it all manifest. I have never been so sure, so full of faith and trust and belief. I feel so much more aligned with the Universe that it’s not even a question of trust or faith or any of it. Walking towards, melting into the Universal energy, all there is for me is to Know.

So gone is the power of that silly voice that doesn’t want me to take too much credit or believe in the power that resides within me…. This is only after 21 days of living my yoga. I have (God willing) a lot of days left in me, for my #365yoga journey will not end on January 5th, 2012. It will go on forever. If this is what has happened in merely 21 days… I think I had best start preparing myself for even more amazing things.

…But not without offering up a great big heap of gratitude to everyone participating in this journey along side me. And to the Universal energy that gives to no limit. I am humbled, I am grateful, I am in love with it all.

the unexpected ally

When I was at Kripalu, I purchased a few things. (*chuckles at my interpretation of “a few”*) One thing that I bought was a guided meditation CD from Ray Crist, my teacher for the weekend. The meditation was meant to take the practitioner through a soul retrieval exercise and in the final half of CD, Ray guides you on a journey to meet your archetypal ally. Most everyone has [at least] one they identify with: Jesus, Ganesh, Shiva, Mohamed, Buddha. You name it. There was something I found very exciting about this idea of meeting my ally. I felt like, as I made myself comfortable for the meditation, I was preparing for a blind date, only the person, if you will, that I was about to meet was going to change my world and show me things beyond my current state of comprehension. I was sort of giddy, truly anticipating our meeting.

To be honest, I thought I already knew who I would meet. Since I started reading about Hinduism and studying yoga back in my high school days, I had always felt a pull toward and strong affinity for Ganesha. I love him so much that he became my first truly visible (I called it my “no going back now”) tattoo.

In addition to the permanent devotion, I have several other images of Ganesh throughout my bedroom and on my meditation altar. (One larger Ganesh statue may or may not have been purchased at Kripalu as well…. *note to self: don’t bring money to next Kripalu trip. Or maybe bring extra money.*) At any rate, I almost felt so sure I’d meet Ganesh that I was afraid I was going to have a hard time letting go during the meditation and subsequently meeting him would really simply become a self-fulfilling prophecy. Luckily for me the first half of Ray’s spectacular meditation left me so relaxed that I forgot to hold onto such worldly thoughts.

So the time came in the experience to meet my ally. I followed along with instructions, viewing everything through my mind’s eye until finally my ally appeared before me. And to be perfectly honestly with you, when I saw who it was, I was so surprised, caught off guard and, well… scared. Because who appeared before me was none other than Kali herself. You might know Kali:

She wears a girdle of severed human hands, a necklace of skulls, got drunk off the blood of those she killed in battle, and was only to be stopped by her husband Shiva, who finally had to lay at her feet to calm her.

Right. So this is my ally.

Friends, I did this meditation days ago and I have truly been conflicted ever since. She came to me, as my ally, but I was, and remain to an extent, truly frightened by her. I know enough to understand the metaphors of her imagery and to know that she is a liberator, what she destroys is demons and attachments to worldly affairs, but even accepting that into my life seemed scary. I went to the bookstore to read more about her. I’ll paraphrase what I read in order to tell you what I discovered:

To be Kali’s child is to suffer and be disappointed by worldly desires, because Kali offers a glimpse of the limitless Self. She helps her devotees to transcend such that they easily forget worldly attachments. Kali puts the order of reality into perspective. She shows us that it is not to be tamed or purified, it is unpredictable. Kali offers the most direct path to liberation. Hers is a tough kind of love and she won’t spare you with sugarcoating. From the testimonials I read in books and online, those who used mantras to invoke her, experienced powerful and abrupt results. Kali seems to just sort of rip the carpet out from under your feet, turn it all upside down, really put you through the ropes and then, once you’ve survived it all, you see how she did it with love and the intention of keeping you from beating around the bush to find your freedom.

Cue me, wondering if I didn’t prefer the image I had in my mind of her just willy nilly ripping heads off of her wartime enemies. To say I was disturbed by my own ally is a vast understatement.

I wanted to say I’d just walk away from the exercise and forget it happened. Try again or just go back to Ganesh. But for every ounce of fear that I have to invoke Kali’s power, I have an equal amount of intrigue and well… trust. I feel like she’s been with me longer than I’ve realized and that she found me a long time ago and only now revealed herself to me. The more I read about her, the more I meditate on it I find myself thinking that she chose me and I want to follow this energy. I am seeing that my fear is a fear of detaching from the worldly things that keep me trapped.

I have the strong feeling that this is going to be a very interesting journey with my ally. Today I actually used my mala beads and recited her mantra, “Om Klim Kalikaye Namah,” mostly scared the whole time about what I was inviting into my life. My recitation was followed by a highly energetic silent meditation. Kundalini moved up and down and around my spine. A few hours later and I sit here with a sense of immense strength. As though whatever it is she is bringing into my life, she is also reassuring me I can handle.

I’ll keep you posted. I feel certain that there will be more to come where she is concerned. This is only the beginning.

For now, my friends, Jai Kali Maa!

you have it all, now give it all back

I sat down this morning to start writing about when meditation gets hard. When sitting becomes difficult because the mind works ceaselessly and leaves no space for quiet and stillness. I tried to think of all the reasons that I was distracted. Energy is swirling around me and big things are coming into my life. The next few months promise to be a true adventure. Yoga trainings, moving into a new apartment, searching for studios where I may share my yoga with others, reaching out to build a private clientele, releasing my dependency on my “day job” in order to live the life I truly desire. Big things. Big changes. Exciting times. So I told myself, “It makes sense that I am distracted. Change is scary, even when it’s change that means I’m following my Dharma and riding higher and higher waves of energy.”

I sat down with my journal, intending to “prioritize” and “organize” my life so that it would be more clear and my goals would be more understood. And suddenly, I realized the truth behind my distraction. These things I needed to organize and take care of, well… I had already played my part. I had already done my work as far as they were concerned.

I realized that when I had been sitting in meditation and practicing on my mat recently, I had been meditating and practicing for the sole purpose of receiving. I wanted. I desired. I needed. My thoughts have been fixated on results. But the thing is… I already have the results. My training at Kripalu is not a question. It is booked, paid for and I already have the time off of work. A beautiful new apartment and 2 spectacular roommates literally fell into my lap without my even lifting a finger. I’ve already emailed several studios about teaching opportunities and regardless of what happens in this round, I know that teaching is my Dharma, so I have no fear that I will not find a place at a studio soon, or when the time is right.

So suddenly the question became, what is left to want? What is left to desire? What is left to need? Nothing.

Jai! I have been given it all!

The next time I arrive on my yoga mat or in front of my altar for meditation, everything will be different. I don’t even have to be there yet and I already know it. It’s like my heart space just burst wide open with acknowledgment.

I realized that the time is not to sit and ask, to sit and receive. The time is now to sit in gratitude. To pour gratitude from every inch of my being. I have it all, now it is time to give it all back.

the practice of practice

It turns out there’s a good reason we call getting on our yoga mat or sitting for meditation our “practice.” If we were experts at it, we’d have attained enlightenment and union with Pure Consciousness, right?

While today I would still classify myself as being in one of the most grounded places of my life, I was aware of energy residing higher in my luminous field. I felt more easily agitated, a little more flighty, and definitely a bit reactive. At work today, I caught myself beginning to engage in a bit of dramatics and over reacting to some silly circumstances. As I was driving back to my apartment afterward, feeling somewhat ashamed of letting attachment to my desires get the best of me, I became more acutely aware of where my energy was residing, what was feeling blocked, what was feeling over-active. I kept repeating my current favorite mantra to myself, “You are not there (with my thought), you are here. Be just here.”

When I was ready to get on my yoga mat, I flowed through a wonderful, grounding practice full of solid Virabhadrasanas, Trikonasana, Parsva Konasana, Tadasana, Dandasana, etc. I focused on sending my energy down, through my spine and root chakra, and even further down through my feet and toes. I began to feel better but even in Savasana I found it hard to turn off the chatter in my mind. Again I repeated, “Be just here, be just here.”

When it became time for meditation, I still felt so much energy up in my head that my eyes hurt. Finally I took one of my grounding healing crystals and placed it on the floor near my root chakra. I took my hands a few centimeters away from my body, palms facing down and I felt for the energy. It was easy to find, thick and muddy. And, as though I were a French press coffee maker, I used my hands to push the energy down, letting my crystal absorb it and send it back to the earth. It took several breaths and few rounds of this action with my hands until I the energy thinned out and became smoother and more fluid. I settled back in and waited. Finally, after a few more minutes of sitting, my body started to let go. I felt my hips relax, my eyebrows unfurrow and I felt my soul settle in to the seat of “I Am-ness.”

And about 10 seconds later my meditation bell went off. Ain’t that a kick in the pants.

I sat for a few minutes longer, until I felt that I was fully grounded in this place and that the energy was truly moving and balancing.

But I learned a valuable lesson today about the nature of practice and accepting that not every day is a mind-blowing day of spacious bliss within. Today I learned about the practice of practicing. It’s a lesson that I am calling the “4 Ps” of yoga and energy work, with which I will leave you today.

Peace in your practice, my friends.

Presence.
Start by becoming aware of what is happening within your body and energy field. Where do you feel tense? Where do you feel energy swelling? How is it affecting your outer world interactions? How is it affecting your inner world interaction?

Practice.
Get on your yoga mat, or sit in meditation or do what you need to do, but just practice. How can you move the energy, how can you shift and transform it? How can you release what doesn’t serve you?

Perseverance.
Don’t give up. Everything we attempt to do through yoga, meditation and other energy work will heal us. Trust that it will, and know that even if the effects are not immediate, healing remains on the horizons.

Patience.
Keep up with the first 3 Ps and then surrender it all to the Universe, the energetic world. Know that your work will be recognized and leave the results to be realized through your intention to heal. Detach yourself from the results and know that right intention will lead you there. While you’re on the journey, pay attention to the scenery.

svadhyaya, along the path to liberation

My me is God, nor do I recognize any other Me except my God Himself.” Saint Catherine of Genoa

I am a sponge. This is something I have always been. I’m the youngest child. I grew up watching, observing, listening. By watching my older sister play out cause and effect (she made the first move, and I watched my parents’ reaction), I learned what to do and what not to do to please them. At first this seemed to be the secret to success. It was a fool proof way of never getting in trouble. It worked wonders, really. Until somewhere along the way, I became so attached to being “perfect.” I thrived on never making mistakes. In my mind, being Jenny meant never making anyone upset with me, getting straight As, giving all I had to give. Then, in my 20s, as a young adult, this “fool proof” method turned deadly. My attachment to perfection led me away from my I Am-ness, that is, my eternal Truth, my Spirit. Instead I walked into the arms of an eating disorder and other addictive behaviors. In isolation, I turned off my connection to my Self. I looked to others for cues as to how I should behave, how and who I should be. Every observation I made about myself and life was external, never did I go within, for fear of what I would discover there: hurt, rejection, “imperfection,” even Greatness. For me, perfection meant excelling in the background. Not being seen and never causing a problem.

Since then, I have been in and out of therapy. Always getting closer, often getting just a taste of my I Am-ness. Loving it, bathing in it while it was there, but then eventually taking my cues from those around me to decide how to proceed. Like a swinging pendulum, I found myself either in optimal health or unable to support my own healing. Instability at it’s best (or worst?). With each passing phase, I knew that I couldn’t support this for long. I yearned to be stable, to love myself, to be strong in who I am. Yet samskara– imprints in my energy field, hurts from the past, kept me chained to a revolving door. I felt powerless to the repetition of old patterns. I became convinced that I would always live with this, with the eating disorder, with the back and forth. I knew that I had grown so much and gained so much insight, yet I never truly felt that I could trust it. I never felt proud to hold on to it. As much as I believed in the power of what I discovered, I had a hard time not trivializing it when it came to sharing myself with others. I would apologize for being so “out there,” or such a “raging hippie.” I turned my discovery of Truth into a joke. There was still a part of me that held on to fear. Fear of being judged for who I am. Fear of being rejected for who I am. Fear of not living up to what other people “expected” from me.

And then last weekend happened. Clearing out my energy field, attuning to the energy around me, I see with different eyes now. The only way to describe it is that I feel I see more of the Luminous now than I do the physical. Unblocking my 2nd and 3rd chakras, my sense of personal power seems to have been restored. Making decisions from my own Truth are much easier. I’m absolutely no longer inclined to joke about what I believe.

You know what I realized? I AM “out there.” I’m expanding. I’m letting my luminous body grow and strengthen and SHINE. No longer do I let fear force me to sit out the play of this life. No longer do I let fear dictate my behavior. This shift, this transformation is liberation. Freedom from the chains, from the destructive patterns. No longer a sponge for every single energy that comes my way, I see the I Am. I Am is the light, I Am is glowing forth. I Am is a beacon. I Am attracts purity, beauty, health and love. I Am is constant. All of this simply resides in this physical body on temporary terms.

Yesterday I talked about paying homage to the sacred space within me. When I clean out the murky, dark energy, when I settle back into my I Am-ness, I am cultivating and keeping this sacred space. I clear out the blockages and I invite the I Am back in. Soul retrieval, it’s called. Drawing the soul back in, drawing energy down, I feel rooted and firm in who I am and begin living from I Am. The observation goes inside myself. I look within for the cues. Svadhyaya. I study myself. I follow the lines of energy. I ceased to be the sponge that absorbs everything. Rather, now I take in nourishment and I expel toxicity. I no longer doubt. I no longer reject myself.

I no longer reject myself.

I no longer reject myself.

I no longer reject myself.

What a beautiful epiphany. What a joyous release. Those of you who come to read this blog truly just witnessed that release firsthand, literally with the typing of that very sentence.

To the sacred space that is kept here at this blog, and to those of you who come to read and encourage me to continue sharing, I bow to you with the deepest gratitude.

Jai bhagwan.

 

keeping sacred space

Today it feels right to simply pay homage to the sacred space I keep, both within and without myself. When I can come to both places in devotion and presence, I can find the peace and stillness that connects me to my center.

 

Namaste’.