We’ve had so much time to sit with our demons. So much time to feel the feels, to be grateful for our health (if we are lucky enough to have it). Time to ponder… and maybe we’ve gained some of that elusive perspective that is typically hiding somewhere in the back corner of grocery store (Sorry, it’s really the only place that comes to mind these days). We’ve been so used to squinting while enmeshed in the chaos of what we call(ed) our normal lives.
OPEN WIDE. Time for your enlightened (third) eye exam. But what someone didn’t tell us in that introduction coarse we took on mediation, is that insight is two-fold. It can have the tingling of bitterness, that with further tastings (you might) learn to appreciate, maybe even like. But right now, I’ve done the work of sitting with all these feelings… and I dug up this trash?
I wanted gold. I wanted a pirate’s booty. Diamonds and sparkles and loads of fresh smelling cash. But no, the only thing I dug up was an epic argument with my father about an orange sh*t-eating goblin that unfortunately has a lot of jurisdictional power. And damn. That is not what I wanted to find in the dredges of my solitude. Wah, wah, wah.
I don’t feel enlightened. My yoga is not working. Where is my abracadabra moment that makes me levitate above all the stuffs?
Oh right. I forgot:
yoga ≠ magic
insight ≠ instantaneous happiness
meditating ≠ levitating
Meditative phases can have insightful magical moments, but magic they are not. We dig deep holes for the things we fear and in our current quarantined contemplative existence we needed to expand to these new, yet known, places. So let’s gather up our last ounce of strength and dump this trash heap in the sunlight and jump start it’s composting power. Stare until your eyes burn with the blinding reality that it can now, and only now that you jumped in that mud-filled trench… become something new.
roadside yogi 