The rawness of my body was beyond humbling today. After a bit of rough and tough play over the weekend, my body is bumped and bruised. Deeply. Internal bruising is manifesting in various shades of purple-green-blue-yellow. My body aches from the inside so much so that I could not hold my arms overhead in Vira I, that I could not do Chatarunga without a nasty grimace scorning my face (wow, what a discovery to put your knees on the mat!) that I had no other option to rely on the intuitive power of my breath to guide me. Breathe (deeply) and trust. How ironic that my intention for practice was the word "Inspiration."
All that to say, during practice this morning, I was reminded how my asana practice can be a raw distraction from the quietude of my mind. EVERYTHING hurt today. My body constantly reminded me of the superficial: this hurts; that's difficult; I can't breath in this shape; this feels good. that does not feel good. However, even on the days that my body is strong and light there is sensation; therein is distraction. The body continually offers a gesture yearning for attention. And that is why yoga is a moving meditation.
It was the mOMment of surrendering to Breath that my form started to dissolve and all I was left with was my breath and the vastness of my mind . . . and how I'm so quick to judge. Too quick, in fact. My mind leaps and bounds from one judgement to the next with hardly a moment for
s p a c e .