"Being Itself stretches itself through me."
This thought came as she planned for the evening's events.
In the Upanishads, it is suggested that Being, the Self, Atman, God, desires to experience the world through us, through the senses, through our experience.
If that's true, she reasoned, then everything is an opportunity to experience God.
Why then, the nagging hesitation, the fear, the resentment: Why, in order to get to "Yes," were there always so many "No's?" Why couldn't she trust it?
A friend of hers that very day had said, "I like to sit up tall, lift my spine, and make room for Jesus in there." It was a hilarious moment of course, but also touching. Those bring-it-all-together truths were coming more and more often lately, though sometimes, everything felt like it was coming apart.
How often had a feeling come over her that hinted at some great awakening, some deeper knowing, even just while making tea?
How often had she gazed into the cloudy eyes of her elderly Maltese, and felt the wisdom of the entire universe peering back at her?
How often had someone close to her gone through some sudden , intense tragedy, yet she felt a sting in her stomach as though it was really happening to her?
It was in the ordinary moments, she thought, that we are given moments of hope, glimpses of connection, and chances to share this human existence, on a felt level.
A teacher of hers had said once, to everyone and to nobody in particular, "Come out of the safety of the shelter. If you want to dance in the rain, you have to be okay with getting wet."
So now, this felt experience of Being stretching Itself through her, through the fascia, through segments of muscle, through nerves, and ligaments; through the spine, through the blood, through the skin. Everything felt so sharp, so soft, so vibrant, so soothing.
As each hand and foot was placed, a new sensation, a new awareness, the felt experience of exploration of this body: a trust in the moment came over her. It was the culmination of a thousand ordinary moments, a million seconds, countless tears, times of doubt, or shame, or joy, all coming together for her in this one span of time, this one simple practice, a practice just like any other, but so different.
Then this: Grace happens in the ordinary. It can't be otherwise!
Dana Walters, a yoga teacher, wife and doggie mom, has lived in Richmond since the groovy 70's and remembers dancing to the Bee Gees on vinyl in her parents' rust-colored den. She considers herself a lifelong seeker of truth, peace, and health. This exploration eventually led to the development of Project Yoga Richmond, a non-profit dedicated to bringing the benefits of yoga and meditation to all. Her website is updogyogallc.com.
Dana has taken a class with Valley.