Go big and go home | Heavy Metta

Posted by einajs in Writing, Yoga on 05 22nd, 2009 | 4 responses>

While driving back into town on Monday night, surrounded by sprouting, vaguely fungal glass condo towers and incalculably lavish consumer goods, M and I felt like Okie yokels on a trip to The Big City, with our fingers in our mouths going “derrrrp” after staring at trees and listening to birds all weekend. I know, I know; it was a long weekend, no great epiphanies there necessarily…but what if there was one? What if every time I feel that umbilical pull back to the ocean that got me here in the first place, it’s not just me being a sulky teenager who is distressed at the prospect of going back to school, but a true prompting from the universe? A Joy wakeup call?

And then it’s back to lovely Yaletown, which, while polished and fragrant and glossy, and prettier in every way than our tarp-covered shenanigans, is still all about the city’s pace and flow, which is getting too fast for me I think. Almost immediately I was immersed in the constant flux of details that tends to overwhelm and chunk up the simple beauty of the practice…in Eka Pada Adho Mukha Svanasana, which leg is considered the “front” leg and what significance does that have for the application of inner and outer spiral? It’s a great question and a fertile one, but I’ve basically been howling at the moon for three days, you know? I’m in no condition to figure stuff like this out. Normally I’d just assume that I’m slow and stupid from holidaying and roasting in the May sun, and get clever and quick again. But now I’m thinking maybe this frenetic mental pace is, as Salman Rushdie says, “derived…from [my] own fevered brain” and not “from blood and bone”.

It occurred to me, chatting with Christine about the details of the practice and getting a bald-eagle-eye’s view of our life here in the city, that it’s kind of my *job* to get very clear on exactly what gives me joy and stick with it. White Hot Truth is really good at reminding me of that. There is still this Calvinist holdout on my mental committee that replies to such inquiries, “Who are YOU to be happy? What gives you the right to consider your delight a priority?”. She used to be the committee president, now she kind of functions in a secretarial position, but she’s still there, chunking up my bliss. Life here seems to be extremely transactional: in exchange for running around maniacally, talking a blue streak and typing even more, I receive the benefit of many venues worth running to, many people to talk to and many keyboards on which to type. Hmm. Why do I have to be quick and smart? What if I’m not actually all that bright…would I still be a worthwhile human?

I’m not sure what I’m trying to express with this incredibly whiny post; I guess I’m trying to “out” myself so that I don’t feel like

Oh man, I miss it already.

some kind of two-headed hippie freak for seriously considering running into the forest rending my garments when I do have a terrific life here in the city. It feels like this dirty little secret right now and I’m pretty sure it shouldn’t feel like that. I don’t want to be one of those recluses who just sits on their porch with a shotgun, whittling, either; I love the community on the Sunshine Coast and on the Comox Valley and every time I talk to the people there I realize what a spaz I am. It’s like a much shorter episode of “Simple Life” or something, where I try to inflict this manufactured zaniness on kind humans who blink, bewildered, at what passes for my priorities.

And I also sense a huge chunk of [wait for it] dualism in my thoughts on the matter, viz. that I should be able to live AS THOUGH I was in the woods even though I am here, in flagrant disregard of the fact that I’ve never been able to do that: neither can my mom: we both need to be literally unplugged to unplug. It reminds me of all the times I convinced myself to use my practice to “get over” something or “more discipline” or whatever…what if it’s not that I’m weak and wrong, what if the situation is wrong?

Okay, I think I’m done riding the WAAAAHmbulance for today. Just needed to get that off of my sunburned chest. The good news is that BRFIV is comin’ back for a delightful encore [that's the one with "Stairway to Heaven" and "More Than Words", if you'll recall...good times] and I’m teaching Freestyle Friday tonight for those of you have a stable home practice and don’t need instruction [we'll be listening to the Fleet Foxes and the Raconteurs &c.] Have a great spring day and fight for your right to party…