Summer. I was lying on my belly in Central Park's sheep meadow. Alone. There was a light breeze that would tickle my toes every now and then, the sun was wrapping me with the most delicious warmth-- the kind of warmth that permeates through skin, muscles, and touches the subtle body. It was the kind of moment where all you need is just to breathe.
The grass was green and strong, and every now and then an ant would pass by.
I remember inhaling and exhaling, at times a little sigh would escape my chest.
I was not in peace.
I was not facing a specific problem in my life (or that's what I thought) nor was I stuck battling a crucial challenge that day. Yet the truth was that my feet were fidgety, my mind restless, and there was some kind of pain in my soul. I could not understand it, and I could not press the stop button to what was going on. And I physically could not stay there anymore. I felt anguish.
So I didn't stay.
I left.
Where did I go? It doesn't matter.
What did I do? Not the point.
It was just unbearable to be with myself, hold the stillness, savor the joy.
Why?
I asked the question and now I couldn't ignore it.
I opened my eyes to something, and I couldn't play blind anymore.
My quest was inevitable, unavoidable.
I felt fear. At times I felt lost, and it was exhausting. Facing oneself, becoming a scientist of oneself requires courage, but ultimately...ultimately...it requires faith & truth.
Two concepts that have slapped me in the face: Fear and Truth.
Yoga has been in my life for years. My companion in the physical realm, in the mind sphere, and the soul domain. After that Central Park experience, I knew I had to dig deep with yoga..and I did.
Fear is a senseless, misty, dark monster. It is useless, it does not exist (in most cases, unless you are being chased by a lion or facing a lunatic with a gun). But the daily fear we hold and make our own is originated, designed, and practiced to control. Fear makes us stumble, second-guess ourselves, and be weak.
Fear has tempted me to abandon my search for truth. Fear lured me to find easy answers like "oh, it's normal to feel this way" or "it'll all be OK, just don't pay attention, move on". As if magically it would be OK, as if my restlessness was just part of life, and worst of all, as if my pain was silly.
I wanted Truth.
I wanted to be a child again, wanted to laugh with no bitterness at the back of my throat, wanted to leap in the air as if I could fly.
I wanted to lay and offer my body to the earth and feel safe.
Truth meant I'd have to crawl back to dark corners and probably cry. Truth meant I'd have to look into habits, smell and touch into relationships, taste the sour grapes of deceit-- my own and of others. Truth meant chaos and rebuilding.
Truth meant peace.
Truth meant faith.
I'm here now.
I'm now here.
On this journey-- facing the temptation of fear, deception and pretense. Seeing through it. I'm breathing each day with the yearn for honesty and truthfulness.
The journey that makes life alive. In the walking we are alive--it's more than the end point which anyway is unpredictable and unknown.
I believe in my mystery angel, that picked me up and saved me that sunny day in Central Park.
I know that each step I take is done with propriety and veracity. I'm not interested in deceit and politeness.
My balancing act of truth, faith, & peace.
I like the way the wind finds it's path through space. How it suddenly sneaks in from behind, from the side, might even give off a playful unexpected whip on...let's say...someone's neck.
Or how it can softly caress and arouse the entire body as it licks the skin of my back.
I like the way the wind travels and creates movement. I like the way the wind is the true antagonist of rigidity, of predetermination. The wind is bold, an intruder.
I like the way the wind is governed by change, ruled by the very thought that there isn't an endpoint...that's it's all in the everlasting search.
I like the way the wind can sound like ocean waves or a divine whistle.
I like the way the wind is fearless to touch, how it can come so close, come inside you, make you close your eyes, and make you feel so alive.
I like the way the wind is so sexy.
I like the way the wind teaches me to trust the invisible waves of light and love. All of a sudden I feel a part of something, something that is pure that has an unknown, mysterious, wisdom and logic.
I like the way I can surrender and just feel...
if I follow you, light...
if I honor you, love...
I'm suddenly found in spirit.
I like the way the wind and the birds speak the same language. How they dialogue, kiss and swim together in open air. They give and take, they lift and carry each other, no one really in charge.
I like the way the wind makes me dance. I can twist and turn, open my chest and arch my back in your honor.
I like the way I find safety and pleasure in the wind.
I like the way the wind takes my breath away...
3:06 am.
That's where I'm at.
Breathing and listening to the birds welcoming a new day. The sun is not even close to rising from the East, but there is a fearless faith that it will come, and offer new opportunities.
There is something about the stillness of this hour. No mental, complicated noise yet. It's just nature taking it's course, flowing-- just like the endless waves that hit the shore.
Fear.
I walked by the shore, hours ago, in the island of the Dominican Republic, trying to capture every second of what was in front of me: the feeling of the humid air and heat of the sun enveloping my skin; the millions of grains of sand under my feet, my body slightly sinking as I walked; the occasional brushing of the warm water caressing my ankles; the unbelievable landscape of turquoise water hitting the yellowish-whitish sand, thin long palm trees slightly slanted along the shore, insanely numerous beach chairs facing the water, and radiant hotel façades that peeked through the trees...
and just like now, I just breathed...
and then thought of fear.
What makes us fear? All living creatures fear...right? Yet there is something so beautiful, honest, and clean about animals. They seem to embrace fear, problem-solve, and then let it go. Seems so healthy and wise.
We.
We dwell on fear.
We search for fear.
We anticipate fear.
We run from fear.
We fear fear.
I walked and thought: at some moment in time, someone, (maybe a group of people), or some particular event in history transformed this natural state of being a weapon. A weapon to control, a tool to enforce power over another...and the dynamic of fear, punishment, and shame was born. Crucifying us...
I try to teach, offer, or at least try to provide a space of fearlessness.
I celebrate the risk, encourage boldness, and truly admire the courage of action. We are here to act. Live in neon colors.
We inhabit this environment governed by anticipation, anxiety, correctness, and fear. Our participation is weak.
We don't come to this world to fuck up. We come to connect and give and share and receive and feel.
Fear paralyzes.
Fear creeps on us. It whispers softly in our ears, and seduces us to "not dare", to forget about experiencing, it tricks us to play it safe, to hopefully not feel, to succumb to a greater, terrible (yet non-existent) overwhelming doom that lies ahead of us.
Fear permeates in our skin, takes over our brightness and makes us dull.
Now in Santiago I think of fear again.
You made me think of fear again.
I say: I'm not complying to the monster. I won't play it safe, I will be real. As real as I can be.
I want to be just like the birds this morning-- bold, open, faithful to the rising sun, to new opportunities, to feeling, and the beauty of being alive.
Writing bursts out of me, like bubbles, when I'm in a state of peace, when I find some kind of alignment between my external world and my subtle body.
Throughout these past weeks I've found myself in dis-ease. I've felt shaken, broken, crushed, and crumbled. I've worked hard towards the goal of awareness, of un-veiling the --oh so many-- false identities and attachments we are drawn to.
We believe we are where we work and what we do.
We believe we are what we wear or how we look.
We believe we are how much money we have, we earn, and how much we can attain.
But the hard, yet simple truth is that we are not.
It's scary to embrace this fact for it is unknown, and it has no guarantees nor measurements. There is no recipe either on how to reach an answer-- if there ever is AN answer.
Faith. That's what guides.
Faith sometimes creates resistance because it is related to religion and dogmas.
"Ishvara Pranidhana": surrendering (pranidhana) to a higher source (ishvara).
Words such as 'devotion', 'trust', and 'humility' speak of this concept. It is the grace of practicing the giving in of what is greater than us, surrendering to the grace of being alive.
Connect with your heart. Align your thoughts with your actions. Understand that there is no one else just like you, and that we are all extremely special and worthy.
My troubles come when I can't find that alignment. When I get blurred away with clouds of fear. My senses become numb with doubt and insecurity. I'm caught in a whirlwind. I'm in a sand storm.
I paralyze.
I cry.
I never thought I had so many tears.
I lose ease.
I'm in dis-ease.
I'm slowing down, I'm sleeping, I'm breathing, I'm beating.
My heart center is healing.
I'm intense.
I'm sensitive.
I need not to think this has to change, or that it's a hindering aspect of my Self.
I need not to think there is something wrong with me.
Intensity is a part of me.
I must nourish and foster my intense heart.
My lion heart.
