The alarm clock on my iPod rang and I popped up wide-awake. It said the time was 9 a.m. Not so early, but the good news is that I woke up on my own. No medication necessary! I was refreshed and ready for my morning routine. That in itself was a miracle, one I dared not expect or even hope for a short few weeks ago. Perhaps it was a sign of the little personal miracles the rest of the day would bring. My morning regimen was prescribed by my yoga guru Suleiha: First the three lobular cleansing breaths, then breathing several minutes each while my hands are in 3 different mudras (chin mudra, chinmaya mudra and brahma mudra) which still the mind and have a grounding effect, leading to the final step of the sequence. Seated in a cross-legged position with my hands in my lap, palms up, right hand resting in my left palm, attention to my third eye, I am ready to release into a deep, relaxed, meditative state – easier said than done. It is challenging to allow the chatter of one’s mind to come in and let it go, but meditation is about the process of doing it. A couple of brief moments of a complete still mind are peaceful and exhilarating at the same time. When I finished and was finally calm and centered, I was ready to do my yoga asanas, the physical poses of the practice. I decided to venture out onto the beautiful grounds of the Griya Santrian. Trying carefully to not wake Elizabeth, who had not been feeling well the night before, I put on my yoga clothes, grabbed my mat and went in search of a shady, quiet place to do my practice.
In the clear light of the morning I came upon so many beautiful tucked away areas, and some not so tucked away, where I could roll out my mat. It was a difficult decision in that moment – my big decision of the day so far – where do I spread my mat? A good yoga practice can set the pace for the rest of the day. Then I stumbled (literally) upon the perfect spot – a platform by the garden pool. There was a waterfall washing down the wall of the platform into the pool. An arbor with a thick fragrant vine of bright fuchsia-colored flowers creeping across and dripping down, reached towards a square pillar supporting a small altar atop of a which were newly offered cianang. An adjacent platform, a few steps higher than the one I chose for my practice had a gazebo with a peaked canvas roof and simple, cushioned hardwood seating arranged around a matching table. The atmosphere created by the juxtaposition of all these elements was one of open, cozy, peacefulness. The table and chairs, even though they were empty, were inviting and somehow gave a sense of having company. Most inspiring – or is it comforting – is the carved pillar with a goddess sculpture atop, whose name I don’t know, graced with several cianang from the night before.
The bright morning sun, the waterfall pouring in a steady flow, flowers perfuming the air of each breath, and the beautiful goddess watching over me filled me with a warm open-hearted sense of joy, and I was focused on my yoga practice in that special little spot. It was the perfect place for the perfect moment and I lost myself in it. I rolled out my mat facing the goddess who softly smiled at me. People were beginning to be out and about strolling by quietly as I stood at the top of my mat in Mountain Pose, but undeterred by their presence I went ahead finding my breath and scooping my arms out to the side and up, looking toward my finger tips, a gentle yogi smile on my lips – inhale. I would normally feel embarrassed and self-conscious practicing by myself in an open public area such as this. But this, after all, was Bali – ‘Island of the Gods’, home of the Bali Spirit Festival! The morning sun warmed my body and the scent of frangipani and incense that laced the salty air filled my lungs with a breath that lifted me effortlessly from posture to posture. Inhale, reach up, arms overhead all the way to a slight backbend. Exhale, float down forward folding, forehead to shins, inhale, breath carries to a heart opening low lunge, exhale and push back into downward dog – flowing fluidly to the trickling steady pouring sound of the waterfall, I felt as if I could have gone on forever – inhale into a prostration pose grounding the eight limbs of ashtanga; feet, knees, hands, heart and third eye. Exhale, release hips back into child’s pose. Then, a slow deep breath draws the chest forward through chaturanga and inhale the heart up, opening into upward facing dog. The effortlessness with which my body poured, step by step, through salutation after salutation carried me to a deeper place in my practice than I had been in a very, very long time.
Riding the tide of my breath, I observed the physical ease with which I was able to execute the asanas and was completely exhilarated. The connection to my breath and to my intention renewed my appreciation of the positive effect yoga could have over physical pain and weakness. This was the instant I was looking for – to feel that I had control within my own being to circumvent whatever difficulties MS had unleashed on my body, mind and spirit. I can put the brakes on the slippery slope of disease and disability. If it was possible to feel this again on the mat, I can find a way translate it into my life and movement off the mat.
When my body asked for some more centering and balance I focused my gaze on the goddess’ smiling face. I was unfazed by the now more active movement around me, which would normally make me waver and fall standing on both feet. But, standing on one foot, the other foot pressing into the upper inner thigh of my standing leg, knee turned out, I slowly lifted my hands, palms pressed together in anjali mudra at my heart straight up over my head. Finding my roots and reaching my trunk tall, arms stretching high toward the sun, I felt as grounded as I could be. And even when the slight kiss of the breeze blew my upper body into ever so gentle swaying, my balance never wavered. This was a place of balance I feared I’d never see or feel again, and here I was, with distractions everywhere, rooted and balanced effortlessly reaching higher than I ever thought I could. Now emboldened, I bent my right arm into my right side body. With my palm up and hand in jnana mudra (thumb touching the forefinger) resting my forearm onto my thigh, bent elbow into the fold of my right bent leg. I reached my raised left arm over my head, pushing my left hip out; my whole upper body arced to the right. Reaching, balanced, still.
This part of the pose was impossible for me a few weeks ago. I could not balance at all having been overcome with dizziness and falling out of the pose and ultimately going into full bodily tremors. Now, when the fleeting worry snuck in that I would get my “convulsive” tremors and embarrass myself in front of the passersby, I freed myself of such thoughts and eased into the pose. Without my mind distracting me with worries of ‘I can’t’, I not only ‘did’, but I felt all the benefits of the asana. I was stable and firm, delicate and graceful. How it looked, I don’t care. I knew this simple morning practice, small on it’s own, was a big affirmation to me that I was on the right path to reclaiming myself, mind, body and spirit. It wasn’t much to anyone but me. This would be only the beginning. I was sure of it. And if it took coming all the way to Bali via Malaysia to get here, than that moment alone was well worth the trip. It felt incredible – freeing, empowering, stabilizing, centering.
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