Oh. My. God. (a.k.a. Duck Stew)
Uh-oh. Did I just, like, blaspheme?
Not sure. Because as I walked home, luxuriating
in February 2014’s final sweet, sunny Saturday, waiting for signs of God’s
wrath to reign o’re me. I look towards
the perfectly clear, blue-blue sky for bolts of lightening and grumbling
thunder, ready to strike me suddenly and totally dead dead dead with thousands
of volts of nature’s electric energy. I
half expect that the pavement beneath me will suddenly tear itself asunder, and
the open earth will suck me in, swallow me whole, and close in around me. Or He/She/It will take a more stealthy,
insidious and silent approach, maybe bursting an important blood vessel in my brain
rendering me instantaneously and completely void of life, or maybe (just for
kicks and giggles) a less major one, leaving me merely vegetative, useless,
costly, inert and drooling.
Because I think I may
have just, like, inadvertently flipped off God. Inadvertently given the Almighty the finger.
Or had a most wonderful,
transformative epiphany. A most
wonderful, awful, frightening, liberating, disconcerting, mind-blowing, belief-shattering
revelation. One that kind of puts soooo
much in frightfully delightful, perfect perspective.
It happened at the end
of hot yoga, the final moments of relaxation during which one does savasana, or
corpse pose. (Yes, for those of you
unfamiliar with the language of yoga, that is “corpse” as in dead body. Which basically entails lying flat on your
back, legs straight out, arms at your side, palms up, eyes closed, mind clear
and calm. Like death.) Said to be one of yoga’s most challenging
asanas, (Sanskrit for “poses”), savasana gives the body and mind time to rest and
recover after the physical and mental demands of yoga. Which, incidentally, evolved centuries ago in
ancient India as a vehicle to focus and quiet the mind, and prepare the body
for the demands of sitting in deep and lengthy meditation. Savasana is meant to “set” the work of the
practice so that its benefits may settle into the body and mind. It also allows for a moment of silence and
surrender, to escape and transcend the confines of the body before reconnecting
with it. To become a part of everything by returning to nothing. A brief little death before being reborn anew,
ready to rise from the mat and reenter the “real” world. Refreshed, restored, renewed.
Many yogis experience some
form of release during corpse pose. They
may fall asleep; they may dislodge some deeply repressed emotion or memory, and
weep; they may simply enjoy a peaceful moment of no thought. Sometimes they use it to plan the rest of the
day, make grocery lists. And sometimes
the space created during corpse pose gives rise to Big Ideas and/or Questions,
like “who am I?” or “what’s the meaning of life?” or “why are we here?” or
“does God exist, and if so why is there so much suffering in the world?” or
“what am I having for dinner?” or “why am I still single?” I’ve experienced all
of the above.
On this particular day,
during this particular savasana, after I finished my shoulder
stand-to-plow-to-fish series which wrapped up a quite sweaty, joyfully
demanding class (lots of inversions, headstands, and handstand prep, so lots of
blood rushing to the head), I sank into the softness of the mat. The teacher read a lovely little piece
(“Empty House” or something) about welcoming whatever knocks at or darkens your
door, no matter how unexpected or unwelcome, as a gift, an opportunity to learn
and grow. She went around the studio and
rubbed some fragrant essential oil on each student’s forehead. At that point, my mind drifted to the fact
that 2014 was nearly 1/6th over and nothing much has changed, in,
like, years. Which was kind of
annoying. And disappointing. And I began getting a little upset with God,
or who/whatever is in charge. And then
it hit me:
Notwithstanding a
catastrophic accident or illness, or miraculous life-extending medical or other
breakthrough, my natural life in this particular incarnation is most likely
over ½ over, give or take. And though I’ve
had a mostly charmed existence and have enjoyed oh so many unique, wonderful gifts
and experiences (yadda yadda yadda, blah blah blah), for whatever reason I seem
to have been denied certain fundamental “givens” that many people simply could not
live without. Little things: Love.
Children. “Success”.
In the past, when such
thoughts surfaced, I might resolve that yes!
this is it: this is “The Year
That It Will All Happen. I Just Know
It.” (FYI: Every year since 1995 has been “The Year That
It Will All Happen. I Just Know It.” So
much for just knowing it.) Other times these
thoughts have elicited an ugly WTF?!? response. An "I'm as mad as hell" angry raised-fist-railing-at-the-sky “why me” reaction. Omnipotent God has disappointed, supreme God is
a slacker, almighty God has messed up, perfect God has obviously made a mistake
- and Him/Her/It has some ‘splaining to do.
But this time, as I lay prone
and sweaty in savasana, I didn’t rail.
Nor did I appease or silver line.
Out of the blue, I heard myself silently saying a very common if profane
phrase that rhymes with “duck stew” or, if you prefer, “suck goo.” And I smiled.
With that, all tension evaporated, replaced by a lightness, an energy, a
weird paradox of relaxed excitement. Yes. “Duck stew” (ish) I repeated to myself.
Who was I mentally flipping
the bird? Was I telling myself “suck
goo”? Was I talking to God? Mind you, I
didn’t say, “muck yourself” or “luck off”.
No, it was more of a, “suuuuuuck goo.”
An “Oh, please. Give me a
break. Enough already. Let it go.
You don’t actually believe all this garbage, do you?”
Because in that moment
of post-yogic bliss I realized that nothing really matters. Nope. Not
a damn thing. It’s all BS. Everything I hold near and dear. Nothing means anything. Unless, or course, I assign meaning to it, give it a value. I, me.
Not my family, not my friends, not society. Only I can make it matter, give it meaning in
my life. Because I, and only I, say
so. Just as you, and only you, can
decide what to give meaning and importance in your own.
What’s important,
essential to you in your life, your raisons d’etre, probably means little or nothing
to me in mine. And what I allow to drive
me, and drive me crazy, is entirely up to me.
It puts me squarely in the driver’s seat. Mighty empowering, that. And daunting.
Because it seems to mean that God is in here, in our hearts and mind. Not out there. I am
God. You are God. We are all God, because God is everything, everywhere, always. We are everything, and
nothing. Creation occurs within, and it
is we who project our consciousness, our constructs, to make the world. In here, out there, everywhere …
… Or maybe, there is in fact
something out there, stuff that exists outside of our own consciousness.
Tables. War. Sunsets. Babies. Pain. Love. Viruses. Uncle Steve. Trees. Quarks. Tsunamis. Stars. Climate change. Dark
energy. But, still, that stuff only
exists (if it exists at all) for us per our understanding and interpretation of
it. All this snow is a nuisance because some of us find it annoying,
inconvenient and cold. (If it exists at all, it’s just frozen water.).
Shakespeare said it well: “ … for there is nothing either good or bad,
but thinking makes it so.” Quantum physicists think that we can affect the nature of a thing or system just by observing it. So we not only gauge importance, we make it matter. Literally …
… Or maybe we live in a quantum
field of infinite possibility, where literally everything and anything that
ever was, is, will and can be, is unfolding simultaneously, while our amusing
but limited senses / mind collapse an infinitesimal fraction of it into a world
and “reality” that they can understand and try to manage …
… Or maybe something else. Whatever.
I don’t know.
“Struck new.” Maybe that’s
what I said to myself, to God, as I died in savasana, before awaking anew
as Creator of Consciousness. Rather than
live in a state of reaction to the “what is” that we think we perceive,
why not focus on our own power of creation. Whether real or
illusion. Does it really matter?
After yoga, I said “thank
you” and “Namaste” (whatever that means), rose up off the mat, went home and
took a shower. Ready to welcome the next
5/6th of 2014, ready for the promise of spring, ready to design The World According
to Me. I realized that God, if He/She/It exists, has better things to do than strike me deaf, dumb and blind for my petulance. Because I don't matter! Yet, it is I who create all that matters, including matter. As do you.
© 2014 Tess
Quadrozzi, A-Muse-In-Manhattan
Comments