Life is what happens while you are making plans. And usually, it does not really mind your schedule. One month ago I had an accident water skying that changed, at least, the course of this summer into a journey towards an unknown territory. I had a severe tear in my right hamstrings and its tendon. I have been resting for a few weeks and now finally I start to slowly walk. Although I had several injuries before, I never experienced anything like this. A not very kind invitation to slow down and look inside. Once over the initial shock I would like to share with you this journey, that is being my most advanced asana.
During these weeks, I have experienced all the palette of sensations, thoughts and emotions. In Tantra these are called rasas (tastes). Shock. Physical pain. (I have been lucky that the most intense pain only lasted a few days, although now it comes back at times with the rehabilitation). Immobility. Frustration. Deep rest. Rage. Change of plans. Family time. Love. Sadness and healing tears. Work adjustmens. Being taking care of with love. Dependence and lack of freedom. Gratefulness. Being away from the Ocean and my home. Family tension. Awareness. Difficult decision making. Laughter. Confusion. Fear. Fear. Fear.
After some time the physical body lets go. But the mind is a harder one. This was the most difficult part during the first days: the continuos lidia with the fast flow of thoughts. Thoughts that reproduce themselves as the demon Raktabija under Kali´s sickle (this myth tells us that each drop of Raktabija´s blood, in contact with the Earth, became a clone of the demon. Bija means seed. Kali sticks her tongue out to drink every drop of his blood and annihilate the demon) And the emotions that appear like huge waves that swallow you. Accept and assmilate the flow of thoughts and learn to surf the emotions. An intense job, a great tapasya. Then there is a moment when, as unique antidote to suffering surrendering happens. And the peace that comes with it.
I will not deny it. Waves come back. Some times are enormous. Pulsation is intense. On one hand the frustration, the burden of all the things I cannot do now, of not having control. (Or should I say the illusion of having it?) On the other hand an inner feeling, like an excited child; a feeling of “mmm… there is learning here, and opportunity for growth”. On one hand the attachment to the memories of the past and the anxiety and fear for the future. On the other hand, the delight of so many unique moments with their own magic.
I take refuge inside. This is the gift of yoga. There is a place, like in the eye of the storm, where there is pure calm. A place, in the middle of an aureole of flames, in which eternally, the Ananda Tandava, the dance of bliss of Shiva Nataraja, is taking place. There, as him, I try to keep a gentle smile and a serene gaze, Sambhavi mudra, observing everything and focused inside. It is much easier for me to do that in Natarajasana and, it si for that I say this process is my most advanced asana. And although there are tears sometimes, I am fully committed to happiness and peace.