Another week of practice has come and gone. Primary this morning was delightful. The days and weeks have fallen into a pleasant rhythm and I have arrived at a place of familiarity with what has become my daily practice.
Until recently, Intermediate had felt more like someone else's practice. My teachers advised me to split and move forward a few months ago. At the time, I balked and dragged my heels, loathe to leave Primary behind, but eventually followed through on their advice. Since the split, I have felt like a tourist on the mat, clumsily groping my way through the sequence, wondering where and how I might find that essential sense of ease.
I think I've found it. Though the arc of my current practice -- Intermediate through Pincha -- is awkward, as though it builds and builds only to drop abruptly before the fire really starts to burn, it has grown and billowed into an experience all my own. I know when to stride out, when to hold back, where to push and where to soften. Some days, I might stop and work on Eka Pada for five minutes; other days, only five breaths. Same goes for Kapo: sometimes, it's the main event. Sometimes, it's just another pose. Inhale. Exhale. Five times. Move on.
As I mature, the sense of urgency that seemed to feed the fire behind my practice is fading fast. The primary emotion is gratitude. I am grateful for this practice. I am grateful for this body. I am in no hurry to consume the series for the sake of its completion.
Rather, I am fascinated by the processes as they unfold. I observe awakenings and openings as one gazes at the stars: Ooh, isn't that lovely. Look at that one sparkle! Sensations are born, they burn brightly, and then they fade away, leaving only a soft impression on the mind and a sense of depth as yet unknown. It is an inward journey through the cosmos of human experience. A great mystery, meant to be explored. How lucky we are to have such a powerful lens through which to map this infinite space.