The morning began in bliss. I woke up next to my husband and my pup, the bean safe inside me and growing strong. We calmly carried out our morning rush (A took care of boom duty) and made our way into the dark city. The light turned red as A pulled up to the crosswalk; I hopped out and made my way to the train. Seven stops later and the sky had brightened to a pale autumn blue. I walked my way to Flow Yoga and, waitlisted, enjoyed two cups of tea on the window seat. With nine people yet to show, I was invited into the studio; Joan greeted me with a spot in a sweet nook by the cubbies. I unrolled my mat and we began.
Joan introduced the seventh chakra: sahasrara. I know nothing about buddha or hinduism or yoga or anything else, but I do know how to pray. Sahasrara is an element of thought which deals with intuitive knowing, connection to spirituality, duality, emotional feelings, integration of the whole, and conscious awareness. When I am one day able to raise my energy to this point (four fingerwidths above my head) I will be able to do whatever I wish to do. The way to get here is through meditation: Joan suggested we simply sit for an hour, training our minds, but expecting mutiny set us up into a flowy yoga series that was much less power and much more presence.
I left the studio breathing deeply and happy for it. I spent the next hour knitting until the store opened. The scarf is coming along; I’ve no idea what the final shape will be, but whatever the size it will be warm. It is good practice for the coming blanket. Tuesday brings news of little bean’s boy- or girl-hood, so colors will be decided upon appropriately.
As the day wore on, I lost the sense of peace I’d fostered and cared for for four short hours. I wanted time to hurry up so I could get out of work. I wanted time to slow down so I could get home sooner. I wanted time to stop so I could just be be be at home for a sweet forever.
I cried with the burden of it all. My thoughts, again, weigh heavy. But you see, I bury myself.
I have many things to improve upon. First I must plant. Perhaps my tears will water the crops. (Or are they flowers?)