Heart Rush

During the 23rd consecutive day of yoga, I experienced something there that I have felt at other times and places, and perhaps because it didn't come during a time of stillness, it came and went in less than a momentary notice. It didn't hang with brilliance and longevity like the twinkling star waiting to be named, dangling above in the dark sky of night.

The front of my heart in a posture hovering above the grounded earth, the back side open, soft and vulnerable, greeting the sky. In stillness for a period of time, long enough to bring about change, to open barricaded channels built over time and experience.

What I speak of, the thing I have named, is an inexplicable feeling, like a wave of warmth and goodness blanketing the soul. A brief encounter with what I believe to be our true nature, and it came to me in a "heart rush." Those were the two words that came to me, unsolicited, magically popping into my head. The wakeless feelings of pure joy and connection happened twice during my practice. The gratuitous naming both a blessing and a curse. The blessing, honoring it with a name in recognition and appreciation. The curse, giving it a name and wondering if it will visit me again.

Every day on the yoga mat brings with it a new experience, just like the rhythms of our lives. Some days nothing but bliss and ease, other days the chaos of the mind can only simmer down to a whisper. The body bending into postures promoting delicious releases of histories in pain and dis-ease, and gloriously, like this day, in an unexpected and welcome moment, a "heart rush."

Dedicated to my teacher Cindy Angelina Shaw, who provides the safe and loving environment for release, transformation and love.

Namaste.

Back Side of the Heart

During a recent Yin Yoga class, our instructor lead us through a series of cat and cow postures. In her very best yogi-voice she whispered, "Relax your belly, let it drop down towards the earth. Lift your head and chest upward toward the sky, opening your heart." Me, breathing-in, breathing-out, breathing-in, breathing-out. She begins again with, "Now, slowly drop your head and arch your back toward the ceiling like a cat. Bring your chin to your chest. Feel the stretch of your spine, opening fully—opening the back side of your heart."

My ears perked up immediately. The flow between postures momentarily disrupted. What? How have I never heard that before? In all the years I have practiced yoga, I had only been taught postures that were about opening the heart from the front. But of course, without speaking those words, postures like the 'cat' were doing exactly that. Opening the back side of the heart. An aha moment. And why wouldn't we address all sides of the heart, whether speaking about it physically or symbolically?

Not having ever breathed in that intentional opening through the back, I imagined my own heart looking a bit lopsided, dim and neglected. Very excited by this revelation, I began the breath-work of resuscitating inhales and noticing how happy my heart was starting to feel. To finally be receiving some long overdue love and attention—from both sides.

You know how once you hear something you can't un-hear it? In this case, I was grateful for her words. Locked forever inside my senses and intentions toward my heart. Another moment of grace—received.

I am curious now. What does the back side of the heart actually look like? Combing through the images I found during my research, the posterior view (back side) of the heart organ, anatomically carried the familiar lines and contours of the heart symbol in illustration. You know—the shapes we girls romantically draw in the sand, on paper and sometimes as the dot over the letter "i".

Who knew?

Now what—you might be asking? Nothing more really, other than to acknowledge the heart holistically. With equal breaths in-and-out, attention, healing and opening—front to back and back to front. The image of the heart etched in my brain. I will never be able to look at someone's back without also seeing—the back side of their heart.