An average pre-pandemic morning in a sunrise yoga class, my mat was planted middle row and habit was informing my body and mind to settle in with breathing. A pungent and powerful smell had been circling my nostrils since I had entered the room, and was scrambling to setup as class began. Normally, I'd disappear into nowhere on my mat, with little if any attention to my surroundings, but on this day, I was repeatedly pulled out by this scent, almost recoiling when the waves of odor intensified. Yes, I did pit-check myself. I can hardly smell so I thought it had to be me? Back and forth I went between practice and thoughts about the smell: Did anyone else smell this? No one else seems to notice? Why am I letting this bother me? Distractions are part of practice... remember?
But I began to feel nauseous, which prompted me to look around and try to pinpoint the source, so I could move away from it. I scanned and noticed a greasy-haired, young fellow, in dark clothes and socks [I imagined unwashed... and you don't' normally wear socks on a yoga mat so I guessed that he was new to yoga]. I wasn't all that close to him, so the smell must've filled the room. No getting away from it.
Then I noticed the attractive woman next to him, familiar as a regular practitioner and her mat was especially close to his.
And then came the sudden Aha!, as everything fell into place for me. I had seen this young man or boy on several occasions, with headphones (noise-cancelling, like I wear) waiting in the lobby while this pretty lady went to class. I speculated the possibilities of their circumstances. Perhaps this was his mother, sister or dear friend, who cared for him, helped him feel safe... never really leaving him alone. I wondered what it might be like to be the mother of a child like this one, who isn't in the place of average--how protective I'd feel, how hurt I'd be every time I saw someone pull away from him, make faces or whisper about him. How tired I'd be as a caregiver, if I could never really leave him alone. Not even when he has grown to a young man. Of course, part of me felt like a petty asshole for being disturbed by a temporary odor. But I had been pulled out by this scent, in the best of ways, now feeling the heart-opening of tenderness and appreciation. Appreciation for the ways my boy is and isn't in the place of average. Appreciation for my life and for Life... for the sort of rawness that in all its discomfort, helps to expand us, open us and join us.
I am grateful for the gift of having space to shift. I wish you this gift, too, whatever your practice may be. My yoga asana and meditation servers have both down a lot since January 2020. Though I'll post a fun pandemic, in-studio photo:
These days it's mostly an elfin-style, springy-step through the woods that breaks up the 40 years of accumulation, held in the body, cycling in the mind.
I'd love to hear what you do to re-center, to ground, to clean off, start up, create space, come Home.