Waking Up

So, do you ever do this...you wake up in the morning and for whatever reason you decide to be good to yourself, first thing, and give your body a little stretch? You feel blood start to move around, oxygen start to move around and after just a few minutes, by god, you feel good! You think to yourself--why don't I do this more often? You think to yourself--why is THIS always what I resist when I need it the most? And maybe the opening of that window only lasts a few minutes, the one that blows in the air which whispers Everything Is Going To Be Just Fine--maybe it slams closed after you've only just felt your hot cheeks begin to cool down--but that one little gulp of air is enough. And you think, there IS something to this after all, because no matter how determined I might be to feel bad, somehow there is peace contained within my body? Do you ever do this?

This is what I want to talk about today.

The presence of the body.

Because--and I know you've heard this before--that is exactly what the body is--present. In fact, for some of us, in some moments...days...weeks of our lives, the body is the ONLY thing that is present. And it is, always, endlessly present. Your body is moving through the world in present time. It is feeling the machinations of your mind and your heart, in present time. It is taking in so much information--so much information that if something unexpected were to happen right now, your body would know it well before your mind. Why else would you turn to the doorway with a gasp before your eyes really had a chance to see who was there? Your body is processing all of your feelings, known and unknown, it is taking in the temperature of the air and the sound of the birds across the street. And when I am not present, when I am not WITH myself, my body (I've noticed) is also taking on the stress and strain of operating what is essentially a ship with no captain. Or at least, a ship with a captain who has fallen asleep.

And the tension in my neck, is a call to wake up.

And the tightness of my breath is a call to wake up.

And that funny feeling that I am not quite standing on the ground, is a call to wake up.

One of my teachers said the other day that she is now at a point in her practice where in every pose she is looking for the parts of her body which she can not feel, and from that she knows all the places in which she is still asleep.

And so, yes, yoga feels good because it is creating space, because it is making room for the breath, because it is working all the muscle groups, blah blah blah. But really what yoga is doing is reacquainting us with our bodies. And this is profound not just because we feel more connected to ourselves when we are in our body, but because our bodies might literally be the doorway to presence. I think we remember, even in just five minutes of moving around, what it is to be alive.

And awake.