Vortex

       Moments fill up our lives like raindrops in a bucket, all blending into what we collectively call Life. But, unlike the raindrops once they fall, we are often able to separate the moments. We look at them, each a tiny universe on its own; we see how they created the water in the bucket, even as we experience each one as completely distinct. A few days ago, one of those raindrop moments hit me in the middle of my chest, its moisture now forever a part of me, as it made its way into the bucket of My Life.
       Kripalu is a magical place for me. It’s a kind of vortex. The Omega Institute, where I spent the last month before coming to Kripalu, is a vortex too. Certain experiences happen in a vortex that don’t as easily manifest themselves outside of that vortex. With practice, however, we can learn to create more of those kinds of experiences anywhere in our lives. Which is precisely what I’m aspiring to do once I leave these magical places.
       The other day, I had a brief, rather ordinary interaction with one of my fellow workshop participants. Immediately after that interaction, as I was walking to an outdoor yoga class, I experienced a visceral physical and emotional sensation, accompanied by a crystal clear image. I saw both sides of a giant, heavy double door made of iron and wood in the middle of my chest, suddenly open. The ornate door, the kind you would see entering one’s castle, opened naturally and rhythmically, at a smooth and steady pace.
       As the doors opened, I felt a flood of warmth spread throughout my chest and make its way throughout my whole body. This energetic escape floored me, as my lips trembled and my head vibrated, like one of those little electric motors that hums from the residual energy that can’t be translated into whatever it’s powering. Tears filled my eyes, and unable to be contained, streamed down my face. My voice made little quivering sounds, like the one a kid makes when he’s overwhelmed by the experience of receiving the teddy bear he’s always wanted.
       There was no voice in my head telling me that this private display of emotion was emasculating, or trite, or childish. In this moment, I gave myself full permission to just completely engage in whatever the fuck was happening to me; without judgement, without internal editorializing, without hardly any thought at all. Just feeling. Pure, beautiful, powerful feeling. For a few precious moments, all I felt was what I felt. All I felt was the unexplainable. All I felt was love.
       In that fleeting sacred space, I felt loved by all the everything that is My Life: all the people, all the things, all the circumstances. In that divine timeless vortex that made up but a single moment, I loved all that is, all that has ever been, and all that will ever be, My Life.
       Like I said. These places are magic.  

©2014 Clint Piatelli, MuscleHeart LLC, and Red F Publishing. All rights reserved.