(This is excerpted from Tama’s latest Monthly Mojo Message E-Newsletter. Want to read the whole thing? Sign up here & get your copy!)
As we wrap up this year, I want to offer you a present, one to use especially in the wake of a walloping year (was this one a roller coaster or what?) and during busy holiday times. Hold yourself dearly. No one has walked in your shoes but you. Hold yourself dearly. This is a practice, a prayer, an amulet and a portal. I want to walk with you into 2013 as all new people, people in love with ourselves and our lives. We have wonderful things to do here. But we will not walk into a loving new year without a conscious love for ourselves.
I’d like to recommend to you a practice I’m calling “Loving Glimpses,” a form of meditation you can use everywhere. I was taking a yoga class, breathing deeply, when I caught a glimpse of myself, rather than as myself. This is a moment in your lifetime, I thought. Snap. Take the screenshot. I felt waves of compassion for this “other” person. I felt awe. I wanted to yell, “You go girl!” Look at you. You’re scared. You’re beat-tired. You’ve got monkeys swinging from every branch in your brain and you’re freaking lost. You rock.
My thoughts droned on as usual inside myself, because like cockroaches they will survive anything : I should have been further along by now. I should eat green live raw food and not spit it out. I need to learn the secrets of business marketing and not spit it out. But the “Loving Glimpse” had nothing to do with my usual stories about myself. I felt flooded by innocence, shining like a mirror in the sun. I watched myself with the presence of unconditional kindness. It was like witnessing the Pacific Ocean in the moonlight or a trapeze artist’s flight in a Cirque de Soleil number. It was pure magnificence.
I watched myself like “she” was a character in a movie. She was so concerned. She was doing the posture, forward folding and then moving into downward dog. She was listening to the teacher offer cues, what to bend, and how to breathe. On the inside, she was so concerned about her life, about everything. She seemed to be drowning in her own thoughts, cresting, and gulping for freedom, yet unable to get near it. I could tell she was fighting back tears, the tears of poets in a hurly-burly world and the tears of recent unprocessed stress.
I wanted to hold her. I wanted to tell her it was going to be okay for the next thousand years. I wanted to hold up the sky for her, be a pillar of justice. I wanted to fight back the rain, rejections, workload, and black flies. Then, too, I wanted to heap on even more computer problems, miscommunications, drama and disappointments just so she could meet her fierce and indomitable spirit and maybe never be afraid again. I wanted her to know the gospel of her own brilliant nature. I wanted it all for her. Really, I wanted it all– for all of them in that room.
I also wanted her to take in Want to Read More? Get the full article here for free!