Look Up

Yoga cools the nervous system so the fires of the past can finally stop burning. Somatic writing is how we sift through the ashes to find the gold…

I experienced this in a profound way recently, as I sat outside in the crisp air of a pre-dawn gloaming. The world was not yet awake as I stepped through the sliding glass door, yoga mat and bundles of blankets in my arms. I was on a retreat in Colorado Springs, and my east coast inner alarm clock had me up a 5AM. I had jumped up to seize the opportunity to move and meditate out on the deck before my housemates awoke - ready to take in the sunrise.

I moved intuitively, no particular flow in mind. I asked body, “what do you need?” Body said, “just move, I’ll keep you posted.” I flowed to find space, creating waves of warmth in the frigid air.

When I was ready, I returned to stillness. As the light began to creep toward dawn, I went inside and made a cup of hot green tea. Back outside, I sat on my mat, bundled in all those blankets, with my open journal in front of me, pen resting on top.

I was open to receive.

After slowly sipping until the tea was gone, I closed my eyes. Nothing but breath. Nothing but air. And whenever thoughts arose, I opened my eyes and wrote them down. Then I sat back and closed my eyes again. I repeated this as the thoughts floated in. I set myself on the path. Yoga had opened the gate, and my writing became the footsteps.

Here is what came through me that morning, as the light slowly grew.

The sun rises.
Connecting to the hum of the earth.
The birds wake.
A smile curls my lip.
Awakening within, and without.
The air crisp, it’s almost freezing.
But memory warms.
And beauty becomes.
The soul breathes, grows, flies higher.

Here. Now.

Presence is the holding of time.
The body is the only thing really here.
Mind wanderings come and go.
Body stays, holding time.
Love is pure presence, a reminder of the center.
Presence is self-love.
Just as we hold time in memory, hold space for the self.

Mother says, “take all of this in, and take it to heart. You too are deserving. Dream, go, be all that you already are. Our time is now your time - hold it, don’t miss it.”

Don't miss it. Look up through the pines.

Just then, the sun breached the horizon. I closed my eyes again and let the light wash over me. More and more until I opened my eyes and saw the deep blue of the new sky through the pines. The past had melted away, the gold was here, in my heart. My mother’s wisdom, lessons I had learned but couldn’t always see, were suddenly vivid and clear as I scribbled seemingly random thoughts. I had been sifting. And there it was: the gold.

Then, a chicken’s mad laugh. The day began, and I was all smiles as I luxuriated in the heavenly breeze.