Finding Home

  Life, Sense how it lands in your body The pull of gravity on your spine Elongating or contracting Your soles arching then softening on the ground underneath Your shoulders hunching like a protective shield or relaxing back down Arms dangling softly surrendering like leaves Floating in space as it must Hear the sounds falling all around you, then inside you Pleasant singing or an ominous rumbling Listen to each note, flat or sharp singing the song of your heart Taste the nectar of tenderness or biting sourness of pain The pang of hurt without downing liquid to hide its bitter taste Smell the cusp of elation like cinnamon, or peppermint or lavender, or rose, or of the aftermath of disconsolation Like something you would Rather avoid Feel how your pulse quickens Then slows down, Your breath hurried then steady, the pressure in your veins Tightening then calming Life, Let it rise in you Let it all fall Let it settle slowly landing on and in your body Sense everything that enters Into

 

As darkness falls My mind begins to wander As it usually does Especially in these unholy hours Worries about tomorrow Plans for the future A world of relentless uncertainties My body said to my mind, "It's okay. I'm just here waiting for you to settle in." My mind continued on its way This time to the past Where there was no reprieve And all that's left is just to forgive My body this time admonished, "I'm here. It's okay. I hold space for your why's, what if's and how could it be's It's okay to just let it be. " Then slowly, tenderly, my body breathed, gently leading My mind to followed suit Slow down its racing speed, Its story pieces fell one by one Into a peaceful heap Into my body Arriving, settling in calmness In stillness, in quietude Once again like many times before Returning home.

  This Majestic Tree Come, let's sit under this majesty of a tree and listen to the stream underneath with the occasional Kingfisher call resounding a welcome song Tell me your story and I, mine Of how we are treating life The never-ending transitions Our various, triumphant fruition Of sorrow and bliss And know deeply that What matters really is that you and I are here Holding precious space A, necessary grace Punctuated by kingfisher song Your heart and mine Soothed by the sound of flowing stream Held safe and sheltered under this majestic tree.

Devotion A one-word intention to nurture, nourish, show tenderness to heal the places long buried and those that can be seen in the full light of day to listen to the body and heed what it needs-- to rest when it needs to to move when it must to let it breathe, to let it breathe to allow the mind's dust to settle fully to gravity to let its nature come into fullness to not resist, to not impede knowing full well everything is passing to hear the heart's beat to open it and see the beauty as it is, it's story of pain, of bravery, of fear, of love of surrender to welcome it into an embrace of healing transformative, redemptive Devotion, an intention, one word, yet an honoring of multitudes of body of mind of  heart of this given and gifted life. January 29, 2023, Sunday  In 2023, my one word intention for the year was devotion. Everyday, I reminded myself of it. Especially when the times became quite rough and even breathing was hard to do, I brought to mind my intention, and

  "Find your drishti," teachers say when we execute standing balance poses. Finding a fixed point helps the body's vestibular system to stabilise. What is my fixed point? What holds me together when even the world as I know it is falling apart? I asked myself these questions as I did my personal practice today. I took my time in going through the steps of the Tree pose, Bhagirathasana, planting my foot firmly onto the mat, activating my entire leg, all the while going into a self-inquiry on my own anchor. I could not find immediate answers. Eventually it emerged. My grounding force, my fixed point has always been my Mother's prayers. Always has been. Always will be. Even beyond the grave. I placed my foot onto the inner thigh of my other leg and situated my hands in Anjali Mudra, prayer hands, embodying my mother's fervent prayers for me, slowly lifting my prayer hands overhead for the full expression. And I held my center for the longest time since I began the

 Dear You,      I know some days are just unbearable, intolerable, harder than others and downright ugly. When your mind is on its usual tirade ranting like a mad man magnifying the many ways you failed at well, pretty much anything. When your heart just can't take it anymore and you have no platitudes left to soothe your soul. But there is one thing you can do. Or maybe two. Pause in your hurried, seemingly unstoppable tracks of the runaway train of your mind. Close your eyes. Breathe. All the way down to your gut. Hold your breath for a moment. Then let go slowly. Release everything that you could ever think of with that exhale. Repeat as many times as necessary. And when you're ready to open your eyes, do so. Then look around. Look for one thing that is beautiful. Or simply not ugly to look at. The sun shining through that window, clear, blue skies, your child's smile, flowers that refuse to die.  Or maybe if you're ready, look in the mirror. See one thing that lifts