Here and Now

We all have our patterns. Mine has been the same for quite some time now. I rise around five, shower, get myself ready for the day and then care for our animals. In the summer it will be bright out by then. But, as we have entered fall, the mornings have become steadily darker. Today there was barely a hint of light as I went about my chores. When I finished the sun was beginning it’s valiant push to illuminate the sky and, as I began my return to the house, my eye was caught by a white flash of incredible beauty. Cereus hildmannianus , a species of columnar cactus from South America, was blooming in the yard. This Queen of the Night succulent shares its extraordinary beauty in brief bursts that fade away almost as soon as they appear. I hadn’t noticed the buds preparing to open, so I was taken aback by the sudden appearance and loveliness of these gorgeous blooms. This led me to realize I hadn’t been very present.

Being present, living in the here and now, has been one of my primary lessons of late. To see what’s right there in front of you instead of mulling over what has past or worrying about what might be yet to come is an integral part of my yoga practice and one that I work on everyday. For me that means working to settle the squirrels in my head. They dash here. They dash there. But my work is to note where my squirrelly thoughts go, acknowledge them, and then gently bring them back to right now. Kino MacGregor, International Yoga Teacher, describes the concept. “The humble task of yoga is not to get anywhere, but to stay on the sensation of the breath, posture and gazing point to calm the mind and experience the reality of what is. If you set your mind on a goal in the future, whether that is two postures away or two years away, your mind is not fully present. Through the tools of the practice itself, yoga slowly burns away the paradigm of rushing towards the goal. By practicing yoga every day, you walk the non-linear path of presence and learn to accept the ‘now.’ This state does not mean that you cannot visualize your future and still be at peace.” For me it is a constant practice. One that I am sure will continue for the rest of my life. But the gifts of the process of being present are amazing. Not the least of which is the beauty of the garden today.

Peace,

Terry

Breathe it all in. Love it all out.