“We all have passions about something, but the idea of reliability in spiritual work, or any transformational work on self, points toward this inner seed of a desire to know, to be in the world, fully alive, fully passionate.”
comes from a book that I’ve been reading recently. And it has been very relevant to my 108 days of yoga, as I feel it being an experience of transformation. And whether its a transformation of the body (losing weight, training to run a marathon) or of the mind (overcoming a fear, being the best you can in your chosen field), its like a plant that starts at the seed and continues to grow and blossom.
Transformation in the body through yoga are those moments when I’m holding a pose and my whole body is shaking like an overloaded washing machine. Those are those blast off moments when a rocket is about to take off into flight, (just don’t explode).
Transformation in the mind through driving are those moment when I’m in my car and I’m indifferent, serene and calm, whether the person in front of me is a cautious tortoise or the person behind me is too-fast-too-furious.
And like a plant that anyone cultivates, (the work that you’re doing in the body and/or mind), its important to feed it with nutritious food/fertilizer. The physical body needs – healthy, organic, local, pesticide-free, 100% vegan/vegetarian/raw, diary and gluten free, non-gmo, non-corporate, non-disgusting, naan-bread and everything else that’s just slightly beyond my budget, is good for my growth.
The mind has a mouth too and it likes to eat a diverse platter of things and thoughts. Whether one is eating reality shows like the bachelor / the bachelorette / and (don’t forget) the bachelor pad or munching on documentaries of self help, it takes it all in like a bottomless pit. Gossip girls (and guys!), the company of good people, internet / Facebook / twitter / youtube, books, nature sounds, silence, laughter, mantra are all things the mind has a palette for.
Which one of these contributes to my aim of the transformation is like trying to decide which of the 218 flavours I want to get at the ice cream place on Venebales St and Glen Dr, without tasting each and every one of them so that I’m not there for an hour, having the clerk crossing their arms and rolling their eyes in impatience at me, as I determine which two flavours I want to combine on a cup or cone.
Unfortunately, you just can’t have them all they say.