Ouch. This all hurts. I know. Because we’ve been sitting with it for a some time now. Sitting with all this intensity… in isolation. Have I mentioned I have no patience? Last week was anger/confusion and fighting against this frustrating situation. This week was different: fighting a fire of turmoil in me.
Tears have flowed, which I welcomed in need of the release. There was saddness there, but they were stuffed with plenty of other stuffs: immobility, the grief of losing what was, living in the comfort and discomfort of home, grieving my body that is aching, the want to keep moving in the world with my fresh perspective. But moving isn’t an option. We have to sit with all this intensity… and be patient for an end, so we can start something new.
I have fantastic yoga teachers. One of which (Dani Zuccheri), this week, quoted another amazing teacher (Jenny Aurthur) in her class discussing the theme of Tapas: the willingness to endure intensity in the name of transformation. The world is transforming, for better or worse. And this intensity is the patience of continuing.
I am exhausted from all the fighting against and the sitting with this intensity. The heat is overwhelming at times. So much to burst out with, but it has nowhere to go but bounce on the walls of my apartmental echo chamber and slap-jack back into my head (and, seemingly, my hip flexors).
So I will burst where I can today; I will take my walk outside. In the sunshine I will see all the things that are blooming; the things that are not working against where they are at and remember that intensity comes to an end and things take a new shape.
roadside yogi 