The other day, before going to yoga I
was tempted to bail because of fear of judgement from my teacher. I hadn’t been
to the studio in a few weeks and for some reason I felt shame for that.
Once
I got to my mat, I realized how my fear of my teacher and the situation was
merely a projection, my absence representing my internal wrestle with fire—in
the practice and in life. This got me thinking about how so much fear in my
life is merely a projection of what I fear in myself. These projections are
like sand in the wind, leaving my essence no ground to root itself into.
The
other morning, I took a walk in the forest with my sister. We talked of yin and
yang—how both of us emphasize the masculine, firey yang and drain ourselves to
the point of break down. It is a swinging pendulum upon which yin is siphoned
from the depths of our souls through mere exhaustion. Like the sandbar exposing
precious shells upon being beaten by a violent surf.
Sometime it takes
indulging in heat to realize we don’t need so much of it. Creation isn’t the
issue—and what is created is born out of fire. The issue is refractory
silence—the replenishment of that flame. The deeper I get into my creation the
more I recognize the true necessity of non-doing. Only in this introspective,
negative space can I address the fears that hold me back from experiencing and
loving fully.
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