Day 1 Part II: Ode to Water
It finally hit me today that I’m back on the island.
That I can simply step away from my two dimensional existence of screen time, and walk towards that beautiful ever flowing abundance of ocean. It’s always there, in her dance between stillness and flow. There is no effort necessary, no doing or making sense of things required. Just an acceptance and surrender into the beauty of nature’s intelligent design.
“It must be time to go,” I thought as I lifted myself out of horizontal comforts to walk towards the yoga shala. I had committed myself to taking a Slow Flow Vinyasa Class that was being taught by a friend.
“This will be good for me.” And with that simple motivation, I bid my farewell to Her -- the camaraderie of the Sea.
I stepped into the shala and found myself still catching glimpses of Her through the Ficus trees and lush foliage. Her gentle lapping against the shore reminded me — she’s never really out of the picture, ever. Her salty caress is visceral enough to touch and be touched by.
And then the class began. The resident dog walked with confidence into the space, shyly approaching the girl mid-stretch next to me and gifting her irresistible kisses. The yoga teacher’s melodious instruction infused the space with a calmness as delicious as lavender. The sunset to come dropped love notes in spaces of silence. Nature was tuned to its most delightful notes, and everything felt as smooth as caramel.
That is, until the hunt began. That moment when the army of blood sucking soldiers with wings and needles swarmed in with a single determination. Against the backdrop of yoga in motion, the sounds of mosquitos descended upon us. The sounds became cacophonous and distracted. We were at war in yoga class. The mosquitos were relentless, and I was in complete defense. And still, beyond the shala, I saw Her -- grounded, anchored and reliably holding space.
What was maybe fifteen minutes of interrupted yoga, felt like an Eternity of wanting to crawl out of my own skin. I took out my scarf and hid myself underneath attempting Bridge Pose. And still, the mosquitos found sneaky maneuvers and outpaced me in sheer size and swiftness. It got so bad, we actually skipped Savasana and opted instead for a Sufi Grind, to keep our bodies in motion — like spiritual armor against this invasion.
And minutes after, I walked out and felt free, as I approached my ally in all this — the ocean, now sparkling with sunset sprinkled on top. I stepped into her warm embrace, and found myself again.
Your Fellow Pisces
Note: This piece was created during Write Night hosted by Brian Gruber.