Encinitas, day 13
I had two dreams last night. One was about losing my bicycle. Realizing that I had probably left it by the fence where I had stopped, I drove miles back to where it was and yes, there it was—my maroon Davidson custom-made road racer, leaning against a picket fence, lovely in the evening light. I approached it with pleasure and relief, but when I looked up again, it had disappeared.
Awakened with angst and dismay by the irretrievable, I wondered, what am I afraid of losing in my daily life? Wham! A lot! From very long ago to yesterday. But these past few days—it has been of losing asanas and never getting back to where I was before this injury.
|What are you defending and holding back?|
Oh, Ego! I threw you a distraction, a bone—you were supposed to be tamed and under control!
And you say—"Well, I was fine with doing First Series forever; but then there were these three teachers in one week who said it was 'time.' And after that—there was such pleasure doing new poses well and feelings of success. It's not my fault!"
Ego, you grabbed that bone, ate it, and then became it! Now who are you?
A sand castle being washed away.
Experiencing fear and resistance to what is (truth), and I'm suffering—ha! even in my dreams! And what is happening on the mat, is also (always) happening off the mat. The yoga good news is that Andrew Hillam is sensitive and aware (and his Sanskrit chanting is *beautiful*). He has seen my practice at its worst/weakest, so I have absolutely nothing to hide from him or anyone else. It's too soon to say, but it seems I'm shedding some stuff, letting go of a LOT from the past. Noooooooooooooo! (That was the voice of the disappearing castle.)
|never getting back to where I was|
Also, am meeting some lovely people, ones who understand the underlying truth of yoga, meditators, and others who share from the heart. Today while mailing a letter to my brother, talked to a woman who is a master gardener. She has planted all native Southern California plants in her gorgeous yard and is a birder. So we talked about birds, plants, Asheville, and what to do about those "protesters" in Oregon!
As for art—the other part of my Pacific coast "retreat"—it is always everywhere. Placed three 360 Project bottles, and got two responses, one of which was from a monk at Deer Park. Will share a part of his beautiful essay below. (his entire response and his painting can be seen at: http://www.360circleproject.net/#!circle/tc5rr
scroll to Bottle #115)
excerpt from monk:
Aspirations 2015-16 To be the wonder-filled, perfectly flawed little wavicle that I am, and nothing more, nothing less. Trusting as much as trying, being as much as doing, deeply knowing as much as learning. Maybe this is my Job on Spaceship Earth with a capital "J", to carefully and aimlessly relax with one-pointed concentration into being me just me.