Reading glasses to see details on cake. Yesterday was my 45th birthday. For me, that means a chance to start again, to recommit to myself and to my practice. So, I began a new 40-day sadhana (daily spiritual practice).
This is something us Kundalini yogis do sometimes. The idea of performing the same kriya and/or meditation everyday for 40 days is that the promised benefits will be fully experienced after this consistent practice. I've embarked on many a 40 day sadhana and completed a handful. It's not easy to carve out the time; it's not easy to show up for the same practice day after day. My mind interferes, comes up with all sorts of rationalizations and excuses. It's the same as my experience during a single meditation. "You don't have to do this, you know," my monkey mind says. "You could be doing something else right now; you could be surfing the Internet."
A Cheese Sandwich
Which reminds me of a great essay by the poet Muriel Rukeyeser. She wrote about how poets need to make every line of a poem grab the reader and not let go. She said something like: The reader doesn't have to read the poem. The reader could be doing anything else; she could be making a cheese sandwich.
In our busy lives, there are always so many things we could be doing instead of practicing yoga and meditating. When I finish writing this blog, I'm going to do Day 2 of my sadhana, and honestly, a cheese sandwich sounds a lot more appealing.
Flying Patio Furniture
But, I had an amazing sign yesterday as I practiced that I'm going to make it through this 40 day sadhana without missing a day, come what may. Here's what happened:
As I sat in meditation, a severe rain storm erupted outside. There were powerful winds, and I heard things knocking around in the back yard. I imagined the flimsy badminton net that took a whole afternoon to set up being dislodged and blown into the neighbors' yard. But I vowed to sit still, to not get up and close the windows. I vowed to let the storm happen around me and stay in my meditation. I was definitely distracted, but I kept bringing myself back to my breath.
I thought of a line from the song Beautiful Day by Aykanna: "Waves are coming in, but I am sitting still." I wanted to seize the moment and embody that... Window sills are getting wetter and wetter; patio furniture is flying, but I am sitting still.
I'm going to go fulfill DAY 2 of sitting still right now. I can do it! Sat Nam!
This is something us Kundalini yogis do sometimes. The idea of performing the same kriya and/or meditation everyday for 40 days is that the promised benefits will be fully experienced after this consistent practice. I've embarked on many a 40 day sadhana and completed a handful. It's not easy to carve out the time; it's not easy to show up for the same practice day after day. My mind interferes, comes up with all sorts of rationalizations and excuses. It's the same as my experience during a single meditation. "You don't have to do this, you know," my monkey mind says. "You could be doing something else right now; you could be surfing the Internet."
A Cheese Sandwich
Which reminds me of a great essay by the poet Muriel Rukeyeser. She wrote about how poets need to make every line of a poem grab the reader and not let go. She said something like: The reader doesn't have to read the poem. The reader could be doing anything else; she could be making a cheese sandwich.
In our busy lives, there are always so many things we could be doing instead of practicing yoga and meditating. When I finish writing this blog, I'm going to do Day 2 of my sadhana, and honestly, a cheese sandwich sounds a lot more appealing.
Flying Patio Furniture
But, I had an amazing sign yesterday as I practiced that I'm going to make it through this 40 day sadhana without missing a day, come what may. Here's what happened:
As I sat in meditation, a severe rain storm erupted outside. There were powerful winds, and I heard things knocking around in the back yard. I imagined the flimsy badminton net that took a whole afternoon to set up being dislodged and blown into the neighbors' yard. But I vowed to sit still, to not get up and close the windows. I vowed to let the storm happen around me and stay in my meditation. I was definitely distracted, but I kept bringing myself back to my breath.
I thought of a line from the song Beautiful Day by Aykanna: "Waves are coming in, but I am sitting still." I wanted to seize the moment and embody that... Window sills are getting wetter and wetter; patio furniture is flying, but I am sitting still.
I'm going to go fulfill DAY 2 of sitting still right now. I can do it! Sat Nam!