2.9
January 1, 2014

What the Quiet Brings. ~ Charlotte Whitty

Saving enlightenment for tomorrow.

I lie on my mat, face to the ceiling, arms beside me, palms up, feet splayed. I close my eyes but can still see light. I wait for the lavender and sage-scented bag to be placed below my brow, its cool weight bringing darkness.

I am resting in savasana at the end of my yoga practice. It’s time to meditate. I think, this time, I’m going to make an effort. “Om Namah Shivaya,” I chant in my head. I place random thoughts on an imaginary cloud, and from my seat in the dark theatre, watch them float by in a blue sky, until they have left the movie screen on the inside of my eyelids.

Milk, I need more milk for coffee, and coffee! I cannot allow a Sunday morning to arrive with no coffee in the house. That would be truly disappointing. Even depressing. Oops!  “Om Namah Shivaya, Om Namah Shivaya.”

There go the carton of milk and the delicious fresh roasted coffee beans from Red Hot Roasters, floating away on a cloud. “Om Namah Shivaya…”

We’re getting extra mileage out of this mantra today because it is a certain feast involving Shiva and a snake whose head must be removed. “Om Namah Shivaya.” I picture myself manhandling a giant cobra and violently decapitating it with a sharp knife, against an exotic backdrop of sky-blue and jewel colors, like you see in Hindu paintings hanging on the walls of Indian restaurants. Its blood is fluorescent green, and it spills all over my hands like radiant, nuclear waste.

“Om Namah Shivaya…”

Yellow coconut Thai curry with carrots and chicken and oh! sweet potatoes and butternut squash over a bed of basmati rice would be good for dinner tonight. I should probably go to Kroger after yoga class.

“Om Namah Shivaya, Om Namah Shivaya.”

Goodbye, toxic cobra, float away, there you go.

“Om Namah Shivaya.”

So long for now, Thai curry dish. It floats away off the screen and then, comes back on the other side of the screen, floats by, off the screen to the right, back onto the screen from the left, like luggage at an airport.

I make a decision to remain in the dark, relish my vision of this yummy concoction and save enlightenment for tomorrow.

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Asst. Editor: Edith Lazenby/Editor: Bryonie Wise

Photo: Lululemon/elephant Journal Archive

 

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