Yow! Mortality on the mind this week, and then this morning as Chris, Brynn, and I were driving to the massage school listening to The Dubber Side of the Moon, Time comes up. Both Chris and I are brought to tears. That doesn't happen often anymore, a song hitting such an emotional chord, much less one that synchronizes Chris' and my clocks. Maybe it's the timing. We're in our 40's now for god's sake, shorter of breath and, well, you know the rest.
Not sure what brought on the awareness and, gasp, acceptance of the fact that I'm gonna die someday. It may have been the National Geographic article on earth's population reaching 7 billion this year. Yes, I think that's when it hit me. The video clip on the Web site is a bit too glib. Hey! Let's party like it's 2010! We only need space the size of Rhode Island for all of us to dance around? Misses the point that we're not the only Earthlings and that there's a dependency, nay, inter-dependency, for all life remaining balanced. Frankly, National Geographic disappoints in this respect. Didn't expect that from them. But getting back to my little, personal epiphany: the idea of 7 billion of us breathing in the air put my sense of self into perspective. Things could get bad for us or for our grandchildren, or somehow we'll all manage to muddle through this overpopulation with smiles on our kissers, but one thing's for sure, I'm going to live a while longer, and then stop doing that. Ticka, ticka, tock! Look at the clock!
I think I'll try to be awake for my remaining years. How about you? I watched a clip this morning of Pattabi Jois leading a group of yogis through the Primary Series." Beautiful, but probably filmed 20 or so years ago. Where are these legends of yoga now? Guruji is not here anymore. This doesn't change my reverence for my chosen life's practice, but it puts it into perspective. I have loved my yoga this week--my body and breath coordinated, and I moved in ways that surprised myself. I'm not going to stop, but I also have to know that this is temporary. It won't do me any good to hold fast to this image of me practicing yoga like this forever and ever. Yoga wakes me up, but it could also put me to sleep if I slip into rigid thinking.
I'm off now to guide a group through the asanas, encouraging their breath, and, I hope, a sense of presence. I'd like us to slow down and stop chasing the sun for an hour, even as we salute it. I'm wishing these yogis, and you, an alive Saturday with a distinctive lack of quiet desperation.
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