Somewhere between Columbus and Vermont I lost my script. Maybe I left it at the airport in Washington, Burlington, Cleveland, or perhaps it floated out the window as I flew above the snow-capped mountains and sunset lit skies. Whatever the case I lost it and I don’t want it back. I’ve forgotten my lines and instead of thinking forward to what will be, planning, anticipating, waiting, I move to a place where I can live in the moment. The idea that we know what is to come is an illusion. I have planed and planned for some much of my life. Fighting for perfect, linear alignment, but the truth is that nothing is linear and alignment is only fleeting. Instead I move to embrace what is, no matter the shape, color, way, or method in which it comes. Ritual and routine have a place, but to become attached to them is only a set-up for failure.
This morning as I sat in reflection this idea of non-attachment, or vairagya is what stood out to me.
1.15 When the mind loses desire even for objects seen or described in a tradition or in scriptures, it acquires a state of utter (vashikara) desirelessness that is called non-attachment (vairagya).
Interestingly vairagya is often spoken about alongside practice or abhyasa.
1.13 Practice (abhyasa) means choosing, applying the effort, and doing those actions that bring a stable and tranquil state (sthitau).
Through my practice I move towards becoming aware of my actions, thought patterns and tendencies; this awareness is where ritual and routine are important. They cultivate the ability to discern the actions, speech, and thoughts that move me down the right path towards non-attachment, not only in moving away from that which does not serve but ultimately in never taking it on in the first place. This is vairagya.
I find that I don’t feel attached or drawn to so much of what I left in Columbus. I wasn’t jumping up and down this morning at the first opportunity to make it to the gym. I wasn’t excited to numb out again and return to my old ways. No, instead I sat. I sat and I felt. I felt awkward and big, almost as if my body became a giant triangle at my waist, the energies of the unknown spilling over my boundaries, in my mind enlarging the confines of my body. Perhaps something I could interpret as being fat, gaining weight. I felt unsure of what step to take next. How to facilitate the movement, the flow, of my life into something that is more authentic.
If I had chosen to become enmeshed right away in the distraction of movement I would have missed the small flicker of excitement at reclaiming myself, the idea of nourishing and resting myself as I know I need. Indulging in self-care beyond a massage or a manicure. Self-care becoming self-love. Something lost along the way.
Self-love. No, not a selfish ideal, but instead selfless.
As I went through the day today I had a calmness about me that I haven’t felt in a long time. Yes I did work out, but even then I wasn’t attached to what I was doing. In the moment it felt good to move and lift weights, but if tomorrow doesn’t allow for that movement or if tomorrow my body doesn’t want to do it then so be it. I’m choosing to listen to the vibrations of my soul, rather than the chatter in my head. Will each day be this easy to choose one over the other, no, but that is also ok. I am here and here I am. What is happening now?
Elissa Cobb, the director of Phoenix Rising Yoga Therapy, posed a question that is resonating strongly with me and I pose it now to you:
What if your life became your spiritual practice?
Photo Credit: Acidcow.com
