During the Autumnal Equinox in September ... A colourful thread weaves into this time and place.
A sutra is a thread, and the Yoga Sutras are threads that weave together as a process of re-connection,
of union, a technology of integration.
Equinox is a time when perfect equilibrium of night and day greets us like an old friend.
Yogi Bhajan said ... to honour the moment with meditation and self-reflection.
Sweep out your internal temple, clear the altar of your heart, light the spiritual fire that rests there.
Have you delivered yourself to yourself?
Have you grown as a human being?
The personal really is universal.
At fall Equinox,
summer gives way to autumn and winter, darkness lengthens.
Time to give thanks, the harvest is in ... share food,
offer seva (selfless service).
With each breath we start afresh.
At the end of the year and at the beginning of the new year, there is a pause, just like the pause between the in breath and the out breath. We stand at zero.
This is an excellent time to reflect on what really matters to you. Give yourself time to care for yourself, relax, rejuvenate and reflect. To help you to make the most of this time of new beginnings there will always be restorative and rejuvenating yoga, meditation and gentle exercises on reflection and intention.
Mindfulness takes my breath away
Down the gentle path
Repeating notes of compassion
Written on the moment’s parchment
What this time can offer
Is blocked by pattern repetition
Undoing that stranglehold reveals
A pocket of pain
Below the shoulder blade
Exploding with past and future trouble
Leaving me lusciously stranded
In the here and now
Each slow footstep
Across the intentional walkway
Crisp brown branch remains
Indenting underfoot softly marking
Pressure from heel to toe
As a wind ripple crosses the foot’s arch
And a glancing shaft of amber light
Identifies the afternoon in play
One small bird cry
The konk of the raven
Always hiding, taunting, gliding
My step still in motion
A new indentation
Heel to toe, crunching twig
A swell of warmth within my belly
An opening of unarticulated joy
Quickly flying off like the raven.