Tonight, in Sangha, after a full day of writing, sitting, planning, doing yoga, planning yoga, teaching a new vigorous twist and vinyasa class… Sangha. Community. Kirtan. Singing. Sitting. Meditation with others. I’ve been looking forward to this all week! And (dare I say it? will she say it?) yes, first day of my period. For me this means words leave me, coordination recedes, and my lower abdomen feels like an Atlantic Beach – wave after wave of squeezing in a sea of foggy tiredness barely describable. Because, of course, words have left.
And there I am. Pain, intensity, wordless fatigue. I had hoped I was pregnant, but I am not. For kirtan I am restless, I get up frequently (for me), I recline for the first time ever. And then we sit.
And I remember for sitting – which I’ve done so recently on my own, so effortlessly, but not now – an article that recommends for basic sleepiness to make it the object of your meditation. I remember all the natural birthing books – the use of which will be postponed another month – talking about observing the intensity, and I take my bodily sensations, cramping, fatigue, fog and all, as my object of meditation.
My mind tries to escape: work, no support, my boss thinks we’re all wimps because we can’t enact the superhuman, la la la la la la…. a voice, not mine, not not mine: “you are breathing little one, live in your breath”…..
Live in your breath.