Loose Threads

In yoga we are taught that where the eyes gaze the mind wanders. Better to keep the eyes still during class than roaming the room, peering at this person's backbend and that person's headstand.

When the eyes and mind wander away from ourselves, we can be drawn into an infinite loop of comparisons; am I better or worse, tighter or looser, kinder or meaner, richer or poorer, loveable or detested compared to this one or that one. This mind game is not merely a distraction from the task at hand whether that be listening to the teacher (or outside of class focusing on a piece of writing, cutting carrots, changing a diaper, listening to a friend). Most importantly, in this distraction we loose contact with the deepest parts of ourselves, our knowing, our path, our soul.

In thinking about such things, I am reminded of the women weavers I met in Guatemala who through hours of nimble and focused finger work create beautiful and intricate cloth from thin strands of string. They kneel for many hours each day on the dirt floor of their homes, spools of thread wrapped around each finger, the waft and shuttle moving in a steady rhythm. If they were to forget their task, become distracted by their neighbor whose cloth looks so enticing, they might loose hold on the threads, their fragile cloth unraveling into air.

When we loose our inner gaze, our grip on the threads of our lives loosens, the fabric of our soul unravels, we no longer know where we are, where to go next. The only thing that each of us can do is weave the next row of our fabric whatever that maybe. If for me that means touching the shins rather than the floor like you can (and so effortlessly!) then I should touch the shins. Wanting what you have (I want to touch the floor!!) only means that I have lost the threads of my inner self, the precious and unique patters of my cloth, the web of my soul.