Hubby’s latest reason for calling me a weirdo (which he affectionately does over all sorts of things) is that I don’t require him to buy me jewellery all the time! According to him this is how girls (and wives) behave. I think he’s been watching too many American films, but he insists this is true. I think he kind of wanted to buy me an eternity ring for our recent 10th wedding anniversary. I guess if he had I would have worn it gratefully because of what it represented, but it’s not really my thing. What’s wrong with still valuing my plain wedding band?
But fortunately I haven’t killed his romantic streak dead and he organised a rather spur of the moment mini-trip to Rome. The eternal city rather than an eternity ring. 🙂 Because of work commitments we could only squeeze in a single night which felt like a ridiculous extravagance, but kind of made it more special. When every hour counts you don’t waste time.
I’m feeling very loved by Hubby.
But this is yoga blog. So where’s the yoga? Maybe it’s in the gratitude and the feeling of being totally loved. Two things I’ve been deliberately cultivating on the mat after I had a kind of ‘horse to water’ realisation recently. You can take a horse to water but you can’t make it drink. I’ve been feeling a little like this in my practice. I can roll out the mat every day and put the time in, I can have the best teacher in the world, of course I can also have the fanciest mat and leggings… 🙂 These are all good, fertile conditions (well fancy gear is optional, but it’s kind of nice!), but ultimately the quality of my practice reflects my inner environment. Only I can really take care of that.
I heard Krishna Das say recently that in chanting we’re not looking outward, but inward, in chanting the names we’re celebrating the truth of who we really are rather than turning to something that’s out there somewhere. In my head these ideas accord with the more acute inner listening my teacher has been encouraging in me recently. How can I feel the alignment from the inside, finding the place that just feels inherent right and good, letting go of all distractions and just going within?
Do I have this in me, I often wonder? Can my body find a comfortable place in these asanas that often seem so foreign to me? Can I find shelter in chanting the names? Do I have an inner light to shine out? I guess it’s arrogant to consider myself the exception. And actually I’m finding that listening more intently is not like venturing uncertainly into a spooky attic full of who knows what undesirable things. Rather it’s simply bringing all sorts of unheard messages to my curious ears — modalities and cadences that I didn’t know existed. My practice might be a little off-key but there’s more lightness and joy than ever before. I can’t deny that. Somtimes I feel like a tiny flower that’s taken seed accidentally in an odd place, but turning towards the light and offering up tiny, tentative blooms as best it can.
Travel broadens the mind — and journeying inward no less than a quick trip to Italy!