In YOGA by Fiona RoseLeave a Comment

She was small, you might say she looked somewhat forelorn. Yet her naked feet with their wide-spread toes, lightly gripped the soil beneath them. She stood with light balance, there was strength, dignity in her pose.

Despite the appearance of symmetry, her heart was relatively large, it was very deep, and resonated with the sounds of night. Sometimes it was touched by darkness, like a shadow you might name void, and sometimes it expanded like an infinite sponge, which could soak in all the pain and all the love that ever could, and ever would exist.

Looking beyond her shoulder, behind, one caught sight of the visible dust of her past, an extended desert-like vision, with long blue miles: endless walking upon paths without road-signs. Paths that take you neither here, nor there. Endless traversing of dusty hills and luscious valleys, traversing lifetimes after lifetime, traversing uptimes after downtime.

When she recollected the most recent experience, the centre of her eyes turned somewhat opaque, dulled, perhaps with shock. Eyes widening in fresh horror, clear and vivid recollections, she remembered the days after the earth split. When it swallowed her whole, like a beast from below, and engulfed her in its hunger. The beast with wide open jaw, with fangs that reveal the fearsomely clear, breath-taking silent seconds of non-thought, the moments before she was gone.

Yet she would not and did not rest in the opaque shock of such memories, after all, there were so many lives to remember. A million, billion, trillion, quadrillion. She knew them all intimately. She sees pain and pleasure in all its measure, both in a dosis of smaller poisons, the twitches and twirlings of the emotional soul, and right through to the overdose itself.

Her feet stand firm, her heart open wide, her senses unrestrained, and no fraction of control: her breath is moving, a gentle breeze, it touches the rims of time and yet flows unrestrained in open curiosity, with  welcoming grace, and seems thus unmoving: mountain pose.

About the Author
Fiona Rose

Fiona Rose

Fiona Rose, born in South Africa, is married and has two beautiful girls. She now lives in Amsterdam. In her words: Drawing inspiration from the countless courageous, the selfless of our world, I work and practice in art and yoga with a sense of gratitude for the rich lessons that life offers. Her website is Yoga without Borders. Other LEVEKUNST articles by the same author.

Photo by Pixabay

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