Last week was like none I had experienced. Our professional development day was focused around safety awareness and it was humbling to hear statistics, watch, re-enact, and perform active shooter drills, and train in a new CPR Course labeled, Stop the Bleed. While the day held deep value in this current state of the world, it was also unnerving to go through it with intermittent breaks where idle and awkward chatter were made. As the breaks took place I noticed that I could not hear anything but when the trainings began again, hearing returned crystal clear. I rode the rest of the day in waves of intense focus broken up by utter confusion and anxiety when my senses diminished.
The remainder of the week led me daily into a building of little people and I felt an overwhelming sense of momma-bird bubble up as the approach to these days was changed and informed by the training. A constant state of wings ready to expand at any moment left me and many of my colleagues very tired at the end of the week. It also left me scrolling through Instagram reels of cute baby animals to right the balance of good in the world.
During practice this morning, the vision of a mother cat holding her kit popped into my head. I didn’t chase it out but rather viewed it curiously noting the kit’s closed eyes and the nearness and connection of these two wild beings. It was breathtaking. As seated meditation ended and yoga asana began, the moments of losing my hearing and the closed eyes of the kitten met and while it didn’t make sense I decided to practice with eyes closed. Immediately I noticed that my hands and feet were micro-adjusting as balance and timing changed with the lack of sight. I could feel my feet griping the mat and my core and hips engage in a different way as there was no visual tracking available. I could hear my breath pulling deeply in and out as if it was a wave drawing my body up and down with unrelenting focus. It was then that I was reminded of how incredibly intelligent the body is-how it can re-calibrate to meet new obstacles and also how it shuts parts of itself down when the need arises. I realized that the short-term loss of hearing was my body’s way of protecting it from freaking out. ( I do love those a-ha moments).
We live in a world of unrelenting noise and sensory overload. Our aim in practice and meditation is not to create boundaries but rather permeable borders where we make the time and the space to take things in, process as we need, and let things be or let things ebb out. It shows up in many ways and through many daily happenings. As we ride the rollercoaster of these unsure days together, let us remember to appreciate our senses. They have a unique way of saving us and surrounding us with joy when we tune in and become curious to when they ebb and flow.
Stay healthy. Stay soft. Stay with the ups and downs. Stay.