On Desire

The capacity to stay awake when gripped by desire is one of the great gifts that yoga can offer us. Sally Klempton

My mind flings me wildly and consistently from one desire to the next towards all the things I think I need to be okay. Whether that is a new pair of shoes, a nicer car, a better job, or a sweeter dessert, my needs can feel endless, infinite, never-ending. What I am discovering through yoga, however, is the existence of a desire underneath the desire for things, one that longs for love, the unconditional kind, that is unwavering, always available, not stingy, enough.

Moving towards this inner love is a creative process. In creativity, there is a merging of oneself to the unknown, the unexpected, the mystery. It is a beautiful dance between the deepest self and the universe. Everything seen, touched, and tasted becomes a colorful oil for your palette.

Still, I can forget all of this when I am lonely, tired, feeling forgotten. Coming into contact with my superficial desires, I can be propelled into fast action; to taste NOW the crispy donut skin, allow NOW the chocolate to melt in my mouth, to bow NOW on the stage before the applauding fans. My mind seeks refuge in a full bank account, a refrigerator stocked with food, a full gas tank, a healthy mother.

The practice of yoga helps me to cultivate the alternative; an unflinching mind that can watch desires come and go without reacting. I feel my spine in a pose, see the unbalance in the lungs, feel a heaviness in one thigh bone but not another. In redirecting the mind to the body, my mind pauses just enough to see the wave like flow of desire as it grows to a tremulous peak before falling apart. In yoga, I learn to surrender to the breaking waters rather than struggling to make them go away. In surrender, there is grief in the loss of what I had hoped would be as I turn to a recognition of what is.

Grief like a tap root the source of growth, creativity, union with the Soul.