Brief Moments of Joy

I am disconnected during the initial poses.  I stretch my arms overhead and my mind begins to wander.  I limit my distractions by closing my eyes.  I would describe the sensation as mentally experiencing a television on static.  Buzz, buzz, buzzing.  Every minute or so, I feel a jolt- as if I am zapped by a miniscule bolt of electricity that allows everything to pause for just a moment. A brief second of total stillness should be a welcome respite, but the sensation is like being shocked without pain.  It is disconcerting and I have this feeling often.

By then end of the session, I am able to relax.  I melt into the floor during shivasina with relief, my mind finally slowed enough to focus.  This is what keeps me coming back.  I count my breath and every once in awhile, find myself lost in a moment where everything else falls away.  Of course, i quickly realize what has happened and the moment is ruined, but for a second, peace unfolds.  Even if I can’t grasp it, a small bit of it remains with me throughout the day.

Earlier this week, I created a Word document titled “writing subjects.”  I wanted to create a record of writing ideas  so I would not forget them.  Like every other person on Earth, I’m busy.  Life gets in the way of creative pursuits.

After finding a millisecond of peace today, I thought “this is my reality.  I can make documents and wait for the perfect time, the ideal way to word an entire story.  Or I can write, brief and in the moment, thoughts to commemorate joy.”

Who knows if the perfect time will come?  I want to be in the moment.  Here goes.

Liam climbed on top of the monkey bars for the first time.  Ben and I watched from a park bench.  He sat on top of the bars, lifted his head and crowed- just like a Lost Boy from Peter Pan.  I wish I could write what it sounded like..  High pitched, full of glee, bursting with pride and strength.  It was glorious.

Kellen and I play a game.  I make my hand move like the mouth of a puppet, and then make sounds like a trumpet playing- as if the trumpet/puppet is singing to him.  He moves his hand and answers with his own song- a conversation.  When he is content, he hugs my puppet hand as if it is a person.  We usually play this game at bedtime, as I hold him on my lap in his rocking chair.  The other night he said “You can also do it like this,” and made a completely different sound- a rat a tat tat drum noise.  He improvised!  He changed the game!  I didn’t think it was possible, but my love for him grew even more.

For some unknown reason, I thought of Simona.  She used to visit the office I worked in, selling homemade burritos she prepared fresh each day.  I was always amazed by her diligence and her spirit.  She worked hard.  She used the skills she had.  She earned an honest living and always shared a smile.  One year at Christmas time, a coworker gave her a $20 tip.  She hugged him with so much love, just sitting near them, I felt it.  Yes, I’m sure she appreciated the money. More than that, she seemed happy that someone noticed her hard work and appreciated it.  I can still hear her voice booming “Burritos! Who wants a burrito?”  I hope she is doing well.

I have lots of other stories bumping into each other in my mind, fighting for space.  But it is time to return to reality.  Yoga is over.  The post-class beer is almost gone.  Hopefully the zen will last through the day.

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