I wrote this in March 2015. Now, time to time in my own practice when I lay down in savasana, I find my mind drifting back to this very one time that I entered savasana with no expectations, yet receiving the best I’ve ever had. Re-reading my journal, this reads raw and authentic. I believe my perspective of yoga had shifted that evening, unknowingly.
“I lay down on the mat, quietly noting that my back is finally, quite possibly so, flat against the ground. Lights dim and I close my eyes. The teacher’s strong droning voice sounds like echo in the studio, the grinding of speeding tires on granite outside the window is fading away. My inhalations fill my lungs up, all the way to my heart and my head, my exhalations melting the skin off my flesh. Every breath I exhale, my skin loosens, softens. Like a tofu losing its form. A fine line runs straight yet non-conforming down from my arms to my fingertips, my thighs to calves to toes. The skin peels away softly, falling gently away as the line travels all over my body like web, revealing warm and moist flesh underneath. My flesh loosens and melts away too. Skin, flesh, flesh. Eventually what remains is not bones but a place of lightness. There is nothing left of me on the mat, but the feeling is whole. I float and sink at the same time. I fall apart further, deeper. I am here but not here. Peacefully, the droning voice returns, gently commanding my body to wiggle toes and fingers. In an almost most impossible way of waking up without awakening, my body returns to its whole and fills up perfectly, end to end, fingertips to fingertips.”
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SHENAYOGA 