The extraordinary blossoming of Spring is springing! Witnessing this great effulgence can help us understand the potential of practice, all of which is intended to lead us to an inner effulgence of bliss so that we can bring it out in all we do.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
I practiced, including a Zoom class led by my friend Suzanne Lynch, I asked for help, I expressed appreciation to various friends and colleagues, I went out into the garden at lunchtime, made several more donations, and sat under the cat. And I re-centered enough to be able to persist.
I hope you all are finding your way in this. Let me know if you want to practice–on-line.1
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.
It was good to get outside for awhile, as wet as it was. The mild air promised spring.
For yogis, of course, it seems not even remotely ridiculous that the only true revolution is one motivated by love. (Photo compliments of a friend whose phone was capturing the image better than was mine.)
