“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.”
― Rumi
As I sat sick in my bed, too congested to breathe, I longed to be liberated from my own body. The same body that gave birth, survived car accidents, loved and hugged. I was desperate for sleep that my body would not allow. And so I noticed what was in that moment. I felt my muscles ache, the rawness in my throat and sinuses. I noticed the moving shadows on the wall as cars passed, the tissues piled on the nightstand and my book next to my pillows. Instead of reading to distraction, I continued observing myself in this space, until finally sleep succeeded.
Physical wounds are the most obvious obstacles to peace of mind. The wounds of the heart are not as tangible, yet can be an even greater disturbance on inner peace. My good friend Steven recently led a discussion on relationships, sharing "If one of our relationships is not at peace, are we? Hell no!"
I'm somewhat experienced at analyzing relationships. Trying to understand personal discord often leads to mental anguish. I can go down that rabbit hole of doubting self-worth quite easily. The mental wounds are tricky mine fields, accumulated over time from major and minor traumas. Not easy to find peace there.
Between physical, emotional and mental wounds that I carry, where is it possible to find peace? I've spent enough energy in social and family dramas, trying to numb myself with food, cigarettes and mindless TV. I tried going to church and pray, but I was so caught up in complaining about this wounded life, I never shut up and listened.
Until I did.
It was in a yoga class, when the teacher encouraged us to feel what was happening as we moved and as we held a pose. That practice re-trained my mind to observe, to take a backseat to the experience. I learned not to judge what was happening, just to allow it to happen. Over time, this released pent-up emotions, thoughts and beliefs that no longer worked for me. Many were no longer valid or even true. It is painful to face these head-on; even more painful to let them go. They're like little deaths of what always defined me, what I had always known.
What was left was a great emptiness, a freedom of movement. I didn't need to fill it right away, new opportunities and fresh experiences came naturally in good time. With my yoga practice, I experience this phenomenon in varying degrees over and over. In time, I become clearer as I just observe what is present, and allow it to pass through me.
It is that simple, but it is not easy. Maybe it gets easier in time. I'll let you know. What I do know is the fruit of my practice, finding that sweet nectar of being. Without effort or distraction, it has always been.
“Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.”
― Mahatma Gandhi
