In Waking, by Matthew Sanford, he writes again about his experience with yoga.
“Maha mudra is a strange pose. In yogic lore, if a yogi practices it enough, he or she can eat anything, even something poisonous. Regardless, it has a magical feel to it. Seated on the floor, one leg is straight in front of you. The other leg is bent at the knee, with the sole of the foot pressed against your inner thigh of the opposite leg. One reaches down, hooks the big toe of outstretched leg with the thumbs and forefingers of both hands, lowers the chin toward the chest, inhales, and tightens the abdomen, pulling it back toward the spine and up toward the diaphragm.”
“As I move into this pose, something clicks or snaps into place or becomes manifest. I experience a new ding. I suddenly feel a tangible sense of my whole body – inside and out, paralyzed and unparalyzed. I am stunned.”
“Jo, this feels different, something is different. I can feel where the pose goes, the unity between the actions. I can feel it actually moving.” I gasp. “The abdomen hits back and up, and the straight leg thigh pushes into the floor…right?”
“Yes.” She says, breaking a smile.
“Then the…energy” – I struggle for words – “moves out through the heel.”
“Well actually, the physical actions is to hit down with the thigh and stretch out through the heel,” she says, her tone informative. “….as the spine and chest life in opposition.” I chirp in. My mind is racing. How am I feeling this? How is this possible? I am perplexed, but the moment is mine. My entire body is working in concert. It has been a long time – some thirteen years. My lost body and my potential body have joined in this pose. My past, my present and my future are touching. Although I am choking with grief, I am also an excitable boy. I have worked so hard to make it back to this moment.”
Jo and I do not say much. It is too big, too fresh, and not to be spoiled. Silence – the lamp’s light, the darkness outside the window, our reflections in the class, my creaking house. My world has changed its shape tonight. A new level of me is coming alive. I am overwhelmed with the feeling that my body has been waiting for me to stop neglecting it, waiting for me to quiet down and listen. My heart is breaking. I feel grateful.”
Matthew
My heart is breaking and I am grateful is exactly the correct sentiment. To sit in awe of all the neglect and how the body still worked to serve me, given what I have fed it and how I moved it.
I have done lots of yoga this year, working to help my body process all the stressful situations it has endured, and giving it flexibility and strength to move easier.
My mind, my body and my soul are all being greatly helped in yoga each day.
What a great vehicle we get to ride around in!
I too am heartbroken and grateful, many times a day as I witness how it lives and breathes and serves me!
