Bali in 03

Style: Yin
Teacher: Louise Sattler
Studio: Rama Lotus

I'm having nightmares in a Yin class. My fate is flashing before my very eyes. It won't be long now until I'm confronting death. It's Todd's birthday and he doesn't know it yet, but soon we'll be bungee jumping off the highest peak in Canada. Shawna has orchestrated an adrenaline-drenched birthday surprise and I'm going along for the ride. Right now as I'm melting in a lethargic, reconstructive Yin class, I feel far removed from my destiny. I'm too cozy to be faced with my own mortality.

The world is stretched out infinitely in all directions. The face of the cliff drops off, revealing a 200-foot plunge down to the blue quarry below. As I walk the metal plank like a death-sentenced prisoner, snug in my harness, my yoga challenge flashes before my eyes. I got into this looking for some exercise and it turned into an intricate adventure literally taking me to the other side of the planet. Sparse flakes of snow drift through the air and the high altitude is chilling me to the bone. I can't think of a more appropriate way to symbolize a leap of faith then diving head-first off a cliff with an elastic tied to my ankles.

An eerie calm is taking over. No thoughts cross my mind. Forcefully entering a state of deep meditation, I watch as I put one foot in front of the other until the tips of my shoes are resting over the edge. Moments later I hear a voice begin a countdown but it seems to be coming from far away, like I'm deep under water, looking up through distorted glass. Suddenly I'm Siddhartha Gautama teetering on the edge of a dramatic suicide and a pure Zen silence clears my consciousness. A few lifetimes pass and the countdown reaches zero. I feel my knees bend and my hands release their white-knuckle grip on the metal bars. I'm airborne. A few seconds of free-fall is an infinity. I feel my jaw clench and a blood-curdling scream gets caught in my throat. The edges of my vision get frayed and blurred as I enter hyperspace. A split second occurs where my mind can't compute what it's seeing. It can't accept reality and I feel it flicker out. Fully abandoned, I become pure perception, unobstructed observation. Soon I feel the cord make its presence known and my descent slows its pace. As my fingertips seem to graze the still surface of the water the cable reaches its limit and reverses its flow. In an instant of delicate whiplash I'm back up in the air, convinced I can fly. Suddenly the harness and rope seem like overkill. I feel like I could slip out of the equipment and remain floating in stasis, hovering in the middle of the sky. Free from the protective confines, I would take my flight up deliriously higher, deeper into the vast blue expanse. I would sail high above the treetops, far away from our manufactured civilization. Reaching for such great heights, the world down below would no longer seem real. It would appear as it truly is. Maya. Illusion. The concrete tumors and metal skin rashes would take on a natural appearance, the impact we've made seemingly erased once and for all. I would sail our friendly skies for a while, wind in my hair as the sun washes over my skin. I would circle the Earth, seeing with my own two eyes all the places I've never been. I'd investigate our home, observing the human condition from a safe distance.

I'd seek out masters all over the world. I would study with sages and sadhus, gurus and rishis, the great pinnacles of consciousness. I would study the ancient secrets and texts, learn the truth of our history and genetic ancestry, the meaning of life and our place in the cosmos. I'd travel the globe on a quest of learning that would easily last five-hundred years. Soon I would seek out teachers from distant galaxies, enroll in off-planet mystery schools to explore the nature of our Universe. I would figure out the specifics of interstellar travel and instantaneous teleportation. I'd learn true physics and unravel the mysteries of the quantum world. I would study in alternate dimensions and parallel realities. I would try to understand the nature of time and my relationship with it. Thousands of years from now I'd arrive at a place in my own pilgrimage of discovery where I could turn around and come back home to share what I'd learned with the planet of my birth. I would speak of where I'd been and what I'd seen. After I'd expressed everything I had to say I would reach out to the distant stars once again. One more time I would head out into the unknown, only this time with no intention of ever returning. This time I would never turn back. Eventually Earth would become a half-remembered dream, a hazy abstract splash of color in my recollection.

Will I still be who I am now when my days on Earth are over? Will I recognize those I've loved when we meet again? Will the fragile moments of my life be scattered and lost? Will I disappear without a trace, come and gone with no indelible mark left, dissolved and evaporated into the endless sea of eternity?


Anonymous said...

"May the long time sun... shine upon you,
All love surround you,
May the pure light within you...
Guide your way on,
Guide your way on,
Guide your way onnn.

I went to a Kundalini class today at lunch so noon my time ... it was incredibly powerful.
The meditation or intention of the crea was based on "prosperity, creativity and protection".

Apparently even a scoundral cannot avoid the luck or positive energy.

I devoted it to you and I actually felt that I was transported to Bali and that we were together.

Keep your heart light on... Great blog by the way.

love, mum

ps I don't care if the whole world sees my comment!!

Post a Comment