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Naga Vaishnava Rupini

nagavaishnavarupini

Goddess of the unfolding of our deepest desires (of the subconscious).  So I was told.  At the Tillai Kali Temple outside of Chidambaram.

After hours of document drafting and emails and phone conferences today (with the pleasurable interlude of a walk to Eastern Market for celery, Russian pumpernickel, and a ripe avocado), I found myself wanting to remind myself that I have been some times some where other.

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    Waiting for the Bus

    Is it benign multitasking or a sign of being too attached to social media that I am writing while I am waiting for the bus home? I have taken my moment to appreciate the beauty of the Dome.

    Tonight, I think it is the former. I have twelve minutes to spare. Writing now means that I will not even be tempted to turn on the computer when I get home. I will pet the cats and wash and sit for meditation before getting ready for bed.

    I can pause, here, thinking about the synchronicity of the centering Batya used at the beginning of class I took tonight (level 4 at Willow Street, Takoma Park). She told us of a story she had heard on a podcast about a woman who described having a stroke as freeing her mind from its incessant chatter when the language center of the brain was temporarily immobilized. That quiet is, in part, what comes from a deep and consistent meditation practice. The synchronicity was that I am reading Ram Das’s “Be Love Now” (hot off the press), which is inevitably leading me to think about the interconnection between yoga practice and facing a stroke. It is not something I think of often.

    The more we are open and aware, though, the more we will see connections and synchronicities. The more consistently we practice, the more likely we are to experience the good in even the greatest of challenges.

    And now, the bus is here, and I am on my way home.

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    Watching the Clouds Dissipate

    Tonight (technically very early tomorrow morning), will be the first full lunar eclipse on the winter solstice in 350 years. Part of me wants the sky to be clear so that I can witness this extraordinary event. The other part yearns for a cloudy forecast so I can stay warm in my bed at 3 a.m. without feeling that it would be my own inaction that led me to miss the eclipse.

    I think we all feel this way about our practice sometimes. We want to have the great openings that come from a deep and steady practice, but it would be oh so nice if they came without effort. And an excuse not to practice that comes from somewhere out of our control makes it so much easier to accept not getting the benefits.

    Unlike a cloud cover blocking our view of the moon, though, there aren’t many things that actually prevent practicing, although they might change what kind of practices we can do at a particular time in our lives.

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    In the “ether”

    Yesterday, I took the plunge and joined Facebook.  I’d read one too many articles in the New York Times about it without being able to really understand what I was reading.  What an interesting phenomenon — seeing images and reading words of friends and acquaintances through space (friends around the world) and time (friends from way back).

    Tomorrow, I will be speaking on a webcast to more than a 1,000 people.

    I’ve gotten thousands of hits on this blog.

    This is a lot of shared energy without knowing most of those with whom one I am sharing. It is shifting space and time as I think about it.  In the computer world, we say or write about what we are thinking as we type or speak into the computer, and then our words and energies shift and take on their own power as they extend out instantly to anyone who chooses — intentionally or randomly — to receive them.

    I think the more we are in the ethereal world, the more we need simultaneously to make certain we are grounded.

  • Soma

    I’d had a long day and felt tired when I exited my building. When I got outside, though, the moon hung low and full and ruddy in the sky and I was so enchanted that it seemed I’d drunk some magical nectar that put a lift in my steps all the way home.

    Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.

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