That Garden, Yoga, and Time

9 03 2011

I’m only writing because I have to.  I walked by a garden yesterday.

when the combat was finished…everyone returned as smoke

Sometimes, I suppose this has happened to you(?), we imagine ourselves held by particular lives

A loved garden, a pathway and a swingset

present or past or future, all rolled together

Foot falls echo in the memory….towards the door we never opened

so that I can walk by the garden and think, I lived here, I live here, I will live here and not a single one of these thoughts will be true.

are you one of those witches?

We all need to be awakened, it’s just I’d like the awakening not to be quite so uncomfortable.


I am mourning, I am, mourning I

Place the moon at [their] eyes and her whiteness shall devour

My words are to be taken cautiously

I’ve been practicing yoga at home lately.  I am forcing myself to go slowly when my inclination is to do a practice where I am always moving–pose to pose to pose to pose–with the intellect usurped by the body.  I want to move because in moving in a controlled manner between poses the vinyasa becomes

a trap for the mind

Except, when my mind has such trouble stilling, because  in the stilling is pain, I do not think the vinyasa traps my mind anymore.  I think it runs in the ruts of my ever flashing thoughts.

the Dakinis…the Mothers,…pumped up to the rain clouds

When I leap alone into this practice, of moving through transitions, through poses, with the breath, but alone so it is nearly uncontrolled, it feels at times ecstatic.

on the powerful winds raised by the tantras

But I end the practice, often, having physically hurt myself–my shoulder and my wrists most often. And my thoughts have not been stilled nor captured, but rather blown around into some kind of furious cyclone.

I fear lest it may bring you some harm or be recognized if by any chance you should be wounded.

My solution to this is to slow down, to hold the poses each for longer than five or so long breaths because this is in opposition to both what I want to do and to what is happening in my mind and my body.

she draws back all of time and space into herself at the end of a cosmic eon


But, unless I practice more and longer, I am afraid.  Or maybe I am supposed to be afraid?  Or maybe I am supposed to feel uncomfortable?  Or maybe everything I do I do incorrectly and…maybe

even the linen sheets, and leathern straps of the saddle, when handled, emitted sparks

the spirit would remain separated from the body, and after it was buried the spirit would wander forever

Great happiness came to her [who] felt the pains


quotes are from the Rg Veda, T. S. Eliot, Charles Darwin, Mary Queen of Scots, David Gordon White, Troiano de Attimis, Paoli of Iassico, Susanna Clarke, Alex Forman