I have become accustomed to beginning my days with meditation. A good catlike stretch brings a little life to my muscles and then twenty minutes of quiet. Somedays there I am, in the fullness of that space, I sense my infinite self....and then there are the days where it’s like I have a swarm of bees in my buzzing brain.
Even if my mind is busy, I still sit.
My home is a microcosm of humanity. A small planet where the consciousness of one member affects the consciousness of all. I am often at the centre of this heavenly body, I am aware of my place here, this is why I try to take care of my stuff.
Whether we are aware of it or not we give everything to our children.
What's in your bowl? All residue of pain, all of our insecurities and our fears, we give to them. Our capacity for joy, laughter and all the greatest good-stuff. Everyday we give them a great big plate of whatever's deep inside us, good mixed up with bad. If you think you're hiding your junk from them, you're really just hiding it from yourself. I promise you they will see it no matter how hard you try to bury it. Our children will know us more than any lover or friend, they will explore us in ways that others wouldn't bother with. We are their first love and the enduring mystery of their beginning in this world.
A while back I read some feminist literature from the 70's. All blustery indignation and a good smattering of simmering exasperation, (lot's of talk about their nether regions?) Perhaps it was appropriate for it's time, but it all left me a bit sad and sorry.
Our feminine power lies in our ability to give. We may not choose to be a mother, there are lots of ways in which we might scatter our spirit, but before we become fierce femina we need to clean up our rubbish. When we deal with the wounds of our past we enter a collective wisdom, a shift in our consciousness. We become the women our children will honour. Yoga helps us to sort the shit from the shiny stuff.
In choosing to embrace this new femininity we embody beauty. Not some shiny reflection of shallow comeliness, but a fierce majesty and generosity of spirit, compassion and grace. Sadly, our bodies will continue to head south. Any amount of modification will not save us from gravity, sooner or later we all head for the earth beneath our feet. Instead of fearing age, we should be grateful for each moment and mindful of what we gather.
In the end we are here to scatter.