This is the start of regular blog posts! After a long period of gestation I’m ready to tell stories. This first one is a story from my 2013 India Trip Journal.
“It is an hour before my graduation from Yoga Teacher Training. The afternoon sun is warm but not stifling – dappled, thinly-leaved trees take the edge off the sunlight. I feel run down and my lumbar is sore – the wear and tear of 6 weeks of yoga boot camp taking its toll.”
I’m curled up in a corner of the concrete walls that lead down to the Ganga river. I have been out to buy mangoes for the graduation for reasons that I’ve since forgotten. The routine of a timetable over the last 42 days has put me in a good space, despite the aches and pains. I feel lighter and less cluttered. I have a good feeling about the future, and it’d been a long time since i had that uncomplicated sense of rightness in the belly.
“I’m Aware of all this.” I was very big on Awareness at that point. Seemed a good thing to obsess about. “I enjoy the sunlight on my skin.” I write and write on my iphone, “trying to distil the moment into a takeaway so I can practice this insight, learn it so that one day I don’t need to learn or practice and can just spontaneously live it.”
… And then the universe gave me a Boo!
As I was typing about awareness and space and Being a huge brown shape suddenly lurched into my personal space. I felt it before i saw it. This weird brown leather wall with an eyeball. I jolt back and look up and there’s this cow with a head the size of my chest right in front of me. I was sandwiched between a concrete wall and a cow – a bull actually – big enough to squash me like a bug. Scary.
It was a startling connection with the unanticipated: genuine, unedited Awareness.
In that space there was clarity. The cow had smelt the mangoes in my bag and was heading towards them. I was in his path. He was simply pondering the physics of the situation: and this is a complicated process for a creature with a tiny brain. Their wits aren’t their strength, bless them. Their main function seems to be manure production and disrupting traffic. He wasn’t being aggressive, he was just someone looking for happiness in a very slow, bovine sort of way.
So I – being in possession of quicker wits – looked for happiness in my way. I dodged this slowly moving piece of street furniture and escaped with the mangoes.
As I walked away from the disappointed bovine I carried that shock of awareness into my body, felt my limbs push and my torso hold them and push back, and suddenly I’m experiencing walking… and then just naturally slowed down and suddenly I’m enjoying walking. To walk very slowly with good posture is a wonderful thing. I’d been doing a lot of yoga for 6 weeks after all, so my body had found a few good shapes by now. Shoulders rolled back and down, spine relaxed and vertical, head up, belly soft. It was delicious.
It struck me that this is the body language of confidence. I felt confident; I was sure of the space I occupied. It felt strange to be walking towards a group of men and feel an urge to hide, to curl the shoulders in, bow my head and avoid eye contact. I kept the pose and walked slower than my sense of fear was comfortable with.
And I walked like a king. I felt like John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever, doing his bad-ass swagger down the mean streets of New York. I was Aware as all hell, and it felt great. I walked off into the sunset to my graduation, with two delicious mangoes and a world buzzing with life.