sarılmak
Move From Love, Day 1
Meghan walked right up to me and introduced herself. She wore a white knee-length skirt that flared at her hips as she walked. Her top looked like it was made of silk. She is smaller than she appears online. My height, with large dark eyes and thick black hair. Her skin looked like satin; she glowed from her white toenails to the sheen of her cheeks.
She smelled of geranium root and lavender.
The geranium has a grounding effect, she'd said.
Lavender is refreshing, I'd replied.
A friendship forged through fragrance.
I soften into the experience through sound. Music. Mantra. Laughter. Humming.
The morning session was a dissection of the spinal column through undulations and slow transitions. We started at the tailbone and worked our way up to the crown of the head. The typical poses (cat/cow, child's, down dog, puppy, lunge) took forever to move into and set up. We touched our hips and glutes, and inner leg lines. We used the force of our feet on the ground to get taller. We rode the wave through gentle articulations of our pelvis, shoulders, chin, and wrists. The session reminded me so much of a contemporary dance class I forgot where I was and started to wiggle and shake.
We went there later in the class, before the full flow. We each stood on our mats and thrashed our arms and legs and shook, shook, shook until our hair was loose, and the room buzzed with hair bands clapping to the floor.
Do you ever wonder if you know how to age? I understand the biological process of aging, though mentally, I feel like I am flying blindfolded with no guides to aid me. The pandemic was most likely planned; everything is placed accordingly for a purpose.
On the mat with Meghan, we examined the placement of our palms on the earth—more fingers and thumbs to press down to raise the knuckles and alleviate the strain on the wrist. I still feel a bit of an ache in my left hand from when I broke the scaphoid four years ago.
Does it take this long for all broken things to heal? Perhaps we never return to our fullest form after a rupture. The shell has few perforations, so it glitters with fractured lines. I am full of holes from the people who poked through my exterior and got through to the malleable stuff. My shell is not that hard; I'm learning.
I don't need to grip the earth so tight to feel grounded and connected. I can press down just enough until I feel the movement ripple. Blood, bone, and all the living things that speak through the layers and layers of compact ground. I feel it.
What I want most in the world is to create something that makes people remember who they are. I want to conduct an experience that leads people back to their homes.
Everything you’ve ever needed to know - everything you’ve ever wanted to hear - everything you’ve desired to feel and understand - is within you.
Like that shell coiled tight, the spiral guides the eye toward the middle.
Yesterday, I dressed for the goddess, held my palms out in front of my heart, and asked my guides to soothe the jitteriness I felt from my fingertips to my feet! I was nervous about meeting so many beautiful goddesses.
I wore my pink and turquoise earrings with a red stripe for suffering. I wore a ruffle top over a simple black sports bra and matching shorts. I clipped my hair back and brushed my skin with gold.
Who are you when there is no one to watch you?
As I walked to the yoga studio, I chanted the Pavamana Mantra. It is always available to me no matter where I go. Emre was ninety minutes late for dinner and did not eat. He was upset with me, and I was with him. I don't know why we do this with each other, and today, it doesn't matter.
Love is as destructive as it is sweet.
I chose a spot a little toward the front of the room in the studio, and a woman close to my age sat next to me. She had the most luscious, long, dark hair. I wanted to run my fingers through it. It was darker at the roots than the tips. From the sun, bleached, and I found out she was a professional swimmer. She teaches vinyasa and yin. She prefers postures that bring space to her low back and shoulders.
At lunch break, we sat outside under a tree together, and Denise joined us in those tiny yellow shorts and her body so long. She looks like a ballerina. She procured these small oval glasses with a blue tint, and I wondered how it would be to look out at a world of ice. Frozen - maybe she likes to hold things as they are in a specific place and time.
Is there anything more delightful than sitting with humans who feel like old friends as you chat about nothing of significance? My new friends went inside to prepare for the second session, and I reclined in the grass with the black cat who followed me. I stroked it along its side and chin until I was covered with fur, and its purring was deep in my body. It fed me as much as I did it.
I love being touched, even through my hand rubbing the body of some other breathing beauty.
I ran my hand along Emre's back and sent him purple light until he shifted to leave. He won't sleep over. not yet. I don't know why. I don't ask. Part of me cares, and part of me is content with what he gives me. He is letting me in slowly, like a child peeping through the crack in a door to assess the situation before they leave the comfort of their bedroom.
I am not familiar enough with him, perhaps. The cats understand me; they trust me. They feel me in a way his desire blocks him from receiving.
Session two was handstands, and I was in a group of three. I had done the drills Meghan shared with us before - the leg lifts and lightwork to bring length and strength to the lower body before you lift off!
I don't care about handstands. My ego is not invested. I did one, and the girls clapped and said, again! Again! I said no, it was a good run, and I'm content to end on a high note.
Does doing a handstand make me a more believable person? Does holding a difficult posture bring me into a more intimate connection with the divine presence? Do I feel my spirit soar when I'm upside down?
My YES is for the people and places that make my soul sing and crinkle like wax paper drawn from a gooey chocolate chip cookie.
Meghan is an utter delight to be around; a little faery you want to cup in your palms and carry around because you know it's rare and wonderful! Precious.
There is nothing precious about me; I am more precocious.
I am getting closer to considering what point I want to procure for people. I signed up for Chris Chavez training at the beginning of August and canceled all the plans Abderrahmane and I made together last year. I will not get a complete refund, and I don't care.
The first day was complete when we reclined in savasana, and the little gift that popped up inside me was how soothing it is to accept what is and not fret about any of the things that happen outside of me.
If I hear that little voice, I am in the right place. Synchronicities appear when we are in tune with the universe. I keep finding hints of the shadow in music and film, and books. The shadow in this context is a person who is learning from someone with more education and experience.
Who am I shadowing?
Photo source.
