Nairam’s Roads

After my horrible practice on Thursday, I went back to the Shala on Friday and Saturday morning. I made the attempt of sleeping better, and this seemed to reflect on the quality of my practice; the balance started to return and I generally felt stronger. I was, however, not nearly as focused as in past weeks–I could keep the pace of the breathing just right, but often forgot to keep it deep enough; and then I sometimes had a blank mind and could not remember the sequence well. The cause of this sudden deterioration of my practice has remained a mystery for days. Say, for instance, in those weeks I spent visiting my parents during my Dad’s illness–every morning, I would wake up and complete a really thorough, slow, thoughtful practice on a Mexican wool rug that burned the palms of my hands a bit. I didn’t mind this at all and, rather, I was excited with the sensation of that strange, powerful energy that seemed to be flowing through my body.

Not sure if I’m still dealing with the aftermath of my losing my Dad or what, but my focus and my energy have been significantly more erratic since I came back from the Funeral. I am actually coming to think that maybe have some energy stuck inside me in a weird way. I have been grieving, of course, but sometimes I feel as if the length and pain that accompanied my Dad’s last months had forced me to grieve in advance as things got worse and worse, making me get to the end with some sort of resignation, having come to terms with the fact that one could not hope for something better than him having some peace. But I know I’m sad inside, and maybe the sadness has not fully come out yet (I suspect that I have been unconsciously keeping it from flowing, because I am really afraid of falling into a depression). And somehow this is reflecting on my Yoga practice. It is as if I were not connected with myself as I practice, the same way I am not really connected with my feelings…

Perhaps to complicate matters further, since I arrived back home, I have not had much chance to sit, think and feel. Possibly I’ve been looking to evade the sadness, and I have definitely had some help. First of all, work has been busy. And, on top of that, all my friends, in a way or another, have been trying to accompany me and keep me busy pretty much every day. I have had loads of invitations and suggestions to go for a coffee, for a drink, to have dinner, to the movies, to… you name it. I actually appreciate the attention, but at times I find it a bit over-bearing. It’s been non-stop. Example: on Thursday night, I went dancing. On Friday, I went for dinner and to a movie (Mamma Mia, by the way, extremely cheesy but a lot of fun, I admit). On Saturday, I had brunch with some friends and then I had to spend the day getting my house ready to have a friend over for dinner (he wanted to keep me company, and also had gone all the way to the airport to pick me up when I came back; I felt I owed him). Today, I spent traveling several hours by train to go to a friend’s house, to then go and hang out at a pool with her 4-year old daughter.

I’m exhausted. I feel I’m even resenting people’s attention a bit, actually. Say, yesterday as I was cleaning my house to receive my friend, at some point I felt upset with myself for not having the guts to tell him I probably needed some rest and that I preferred to postpone the getting together for the following weekend. He has been a good friend for years-having been there for me during some really tough times, and I didn’t dare to tell him off. In the end, the getting together was lovely, but in the meantime I spent the afternoon mopping and feeling tired and teary, upset because I wanted to cancel, guilty for feeling upset, and driving myself nuts for being so antisocial when people only want to show they care about me. Sigh.

Perhaps it is normal, and I just need to slow down a bit. That’s why this evening I decided to just stay in, have some nice dinner by myself (and with my lovely cats, who I love to death and are so sweet and funny), maybe write, read, watch a nice movie. I have to remember that time to myself sometimes it means time in, to get to be in touch with my feelings. And I should not fear becoming depressed thinking of my Dad.

I am glad that my Yoga practice is such a mirror of my internal struggles. It is as if my soul’s tribulations came out on the mat, for me to observe them with tranquility and objectivity, helping me fix them, helping me help myself. Thanks to it, I’m suddenly more aware that I need to accept my sadness, and that I need to stay more focused on all that’s going on inside me–from my breathing and bandhas to my own feelings.

Life is slowly returning to a more normal course. I was touched to see that my closet colleagues had sent me a really sweet flower arrangement at home, which I received at my return. Yesterday morning I went to the office as always; some other friends and colleagues had heard the news and several sent me messages and stopped by my office to see how I was. I have to say, it was so touching to see people caring about me… this is probably one of the good things that often comes from difficult times like this one: it is possible for me to see how others are there for me, willing to help me deal better with all that’s happened, and that’s a blessing.

Still, I spent the day a bit anxious, with lots of work to do. After the office, I had to go and take a walk on the heat of the day, trying to get the stress out. By the end of the day, another friend of mine took me out to a nice dinner at one of my favorite restaurants, showcasing Middle Eastern cuisine, which was just so delicious. It was such a pleasant dinner, and by the end of several hours of great conversation that just flew away, the couple of glasses of fresh sangria and the absolutely yummy mezze I was feeling rested and happy.

Once home after dinner, I also took the luxury of going to bed semi-early (for my standards), reading a few of chapters of Enlightment for Idiots (which I’m loving, after having finished that masterpiece that is Jhumpa Lahiri’s Unaccustomed Earth). The only thing I regretted was not remembering to kick my cats out of my room-for some reason they were playing around all night and chasing each other on top of me, which wasn’t great. Still, by the time I woke up, I was ready to go to the shala for practice.

I had not gone practiced since Wednesday morning. On Thursday, I had my trip back home. That night, while walking down my street, I saw the huge full moon in front of me and I realized that Friday was going to be an inevitable Moon Day (incidentally, also Guruji’s birthday). Anyway, I decided to make the best of it and be grateful for the extra rest, hoping that my practice would not suffer too much for the extra day of hiatus. 

It turned out there was no problem. Today at the shala I was in a strange state of internal peace that really reflected on my breathing. I’ve so far had huge problems getting anything close to the Ujjaya breath going, but today it just worked so much better and naturally. My pace was there, I remembered to do my best in holding the bandhas, to focus my gaze where I’m supposed to rather than wandering as I usually do. Generally, I felt strong, flexible and fluid through the poses. My balance was much better my last asanas (the first few standing ones in the Primary Series), and by the end I felt great. Then I came out to the Sun that is shinning brightly on the sky today, thinking that I ought to spend some more time outside, just absorbing the light, and thinking that my Dad would have agreed with me.