Steady Observation
“Is there anything that I can do to make myself enlightened?” “As little as you can do to make the sun rise in the morning.” “Then of what use are the spiritual exercises you prescribe?” “To make sure you are not asleep when the sun begins to rise.” ~Anthony de Mello, 1931-1987
In the school of learning to rest, scholae that is, I am remembering the importance of showing up to do what seems like nothing. Why do I practice yoga, meditation, prayer? What good are any of these spiritual practices? Ah, yes, so that I’m not asleep when the sweetness of doing nothing comes to fill me with its immeasurable goodness.
It’s the end of August as I write this. I am sitting on my front porch where I’ve sat nearly every morning since the start of May. From here, I can start my day with a view of the sunrise, listening to morning sounds, taking in the movement of nature as I sit in my rocker mostly still and quiet.
This end of August daybreak I observe the morning light has changed, but that is not all. Because I’ve sat here so many mornings, I’ve witnessed the shift as the earth turns and tilts, moving us in the Northern hemisphere through summer, edging us toward fall.
Now the morning sun and it’s streaks of color across the sky are further to the right of my eyeline when I sit in my rocking chair. Using the compass on my phone I measure—the view I recall from June had the sun at 88 degrees East. As I gaze out in the same direction this morning, my measurement shows 102 degrees East working toward the South.
When I sit for this daily practice I sometimes remember the quote by Anthony de Mello. What point is there in this daily act that might seem for all its lack of production, pointless? So much that I haven’t missed.
This morning the birds are active, exuberant even. The hummingbirds are diving around each other and me, chipping at each other and then settling for sugar water before continuing their aeronautic dance. The woodpeckers tap, tap, tap on the wood of a dead tree as yellow finches and crows swoop, caw, chirp.
The sky today is shifting quickly in the misty, rain-bathed air. The blue that was emerging with first light is covered now in gray-white clouds that swiftly stretched themselves across the sky.
The leaves surrounding each tiny rose bud are dancing in the cool breeze that smells like a memory—wet earth, roses, something that reminds me of South Carolina beach mornings.
Sun streaks have begun to appear now, shooting light upward like a beacon through the clouds to the sky. Just beyond my porch, my favorite cherry tree is alive with the trickle of rain water off its leaves and the sound of cicadas has shifted to a chorus of crickets.
It’s too much, all of it, to miss. And it produces nothing, or appears not to. This kind of abundance requires another sort of measurement than that to which the world asks me to conform.
There’s a story I’ve heard about Jesus describing what the realm of heaven might be like. The story goes that he describes this realm as one where some people are waiting for another special person to arrive. No one knows when the guest they’re waiting for will come, but some of the people waiting have oil to keep their lamp lit so that they’ll be able to see the guest when they’ve finally come. Others waiting have brought no oil and so their lamps go out and they miss the meeting of the guest.
It seems that heaven deals in surprises. I imagine this oil that keep the lamps lit as the showing up that keeps the lamp of observation lit for me. Too many guests keep popping up in my mornings—the sun, the birds, the gentle breeze. I don’t want to be asleep or in the dark when any of them come.
Today a yoga student thanked me for this version of a lunge. She said, “I have always felt like teachers were ‘dumbing down’ poses for me and that made me feel badly about myself and my practice. Today, this version wasn’t dumbed down. It elevated the practice for me.” My heart nearly burst. This is the whole reason adapted yoga is essential to me and why I am so grateful to @jivanaheyman for his teachings and fellow teachers!
The upcoming 200 Hour Yoga Training with me starts October 2 in Shepherdstown, WV. Deadline for sign up is September 15. And yes, elevating the practice for YOU personally, that is the deepest love of my heart. We still have room for 5 people. Reach out to me at jalayoga.christa@gmail.com or 401-440-0279. Read more here: 200 Hour Yoga Training
