Today is my only day off for weeks in either direction, so naturally I was out of bed and on the road before 6 a.m.
The sunrise chased me into the mountains, urging me to be on time. An extended family of deer, including a massive buck (16 point, no less) awaited at the entrance to the spectacular facility that is YMCA of the Rockies in Estes Park. Their message: okay, you made it, time to slow down.
And so shoulders sink as I allow a conscious breath to fill my lungs. I eschew any concern that I left my yoga mat at home, and I even have time to burn a twig of palo santo outside the hall where the kundalini intensive is to be hosted.
Here is the class description:
The Power of Love
[with] Gurmukh Kaur Khalsa & Gurushabd Singh Khalsa
The heart center is the strongest of all centers. Whenever you pray with your head, it will take a long time: You have to go through intellect, thought, circumstances, environment, space, and time. Whenever you sing or pray from your heart, it will be timeless, spaceless, and absolutely effective. It works. Let your heart become the Temple of Gold. Please join us for a bountiful, beautiful, blissful, and heartfelt Kundalini Yoga and meditation class dedicated to the infinite power of the heart.
[Includes} Active yoga, meditation, chanting, and Savasana.
No more than 15 souls gathered to practice these ancient kriyas. Which is no wonder really, considering how profoundly uncomfortable they can be. But as Gurmukh Kaur Khalsa explained, those points of pain and resistance are places where fear (in any of its many forms) still holds power. The kriyas are scientifically designed to cleanse these impurities, so embrace the pain.
After nine minutes (with two more to go) of flexing my hands like bear-claws, then floating my arms from parallel to over my head and back again, I hit a wall. Or I would have hit the wall if not for Kia Miller’s wise words from this past summer at Hanuman Festival: “Just thank your arms, and keep on going.”
So my arms kept going. I kept my tongue stuck straight out and heaved through each breath until something funny happened. Discomfort dissipated. Everything was light, and deep, involuntary belly sobs erupted from me in silence.
We moved from this vigorous motion to complete stillness. My muscles were grateful, and the happy weeping continued. Full disclosure: I’m not a big crier—especially not in public—so I was grateful for the silent nature of my tears.
I sat and watched as all that emotion arose and faded into ether. I settled into an immense stillness. Eventually, the waves of the mind began again. My knees hurt before too long, and I started to wonder about lunch, about who else is here that I might know or like to know.
I walked out of class feeling back to normal but, not quite. My third-eye is still throbbing, and the bridge from heart to crown is all the more free and clear.
Now, having snacked on some NudeFood, it’s almost time for round two. Two hours of walking and breathing. I’m not even worried that I left the house in my slippers this morning…