These past few weeks my practice has been less than amazing in terms of duration, or rigor. The best thing about my practice is it truly is a practice. It is something that I have built my life around, we have a deep, long, loving relationship. Even though this practice is mine, I share it I with my self and my students.
I write my practice down most everyday. Good thing I do this or my Judgie Self would say I didn’t do anything. NO practice, Suzy Ruth did NOTHING.
December did bring a strong dose of the daily minimum: A’s and B’s and closing, and few lal about and investigate just enough to consider it a practice, seven full primarys, a few shout-outs to third series up to the Viparitas (without all of those pesky arm balances).
Perfunctory is from Latin perfunctus,from perfungi “to get through with, perform,” formed from the Latin prefix per- “completely” plus fungi “to perform.”
Perfunctory is often associated with a git it dun, lack of enthusiasm sort of feeling.
My version of perfunctory starts out like that, after just a few moments of mat time perfunctory morphs into more of a routine or duty…. who else is going to do my practice? Then the duty, the routine most often, sometimes not, becomes a pleasure… and then my saving grace… and then I drop into myself.. which is to say I become aware of my connection to everything and everyone ever and never born.
IT CLICKS…I see a sheep chewing clover. chew. chew. chew…
I see roots growing deep into the ground. I see birds navigating with that magnetic tool they have. I am that bird. I love flying over nothing but ocean. I see elephants hearing each other through their feet. I am the dirt the elephant hears through.
I see gravity.
I see molecules.
I aim up along my spine. I do this to participate, to do my share. The employment of the multi-dimensional relativity of myself is a form of cheering for the world, applauding our Earth, bowing to the wisdom of our ancestor seven generations ago. I aim out from everywhere to everywhere else… as a form of prayer to the beings a generation or two or three in the future.
And of course I go in, and think of the body I inhabit, the body I am borrowing. My wonderful library book of a body. I must treat it well while it is under my care. To do this, to treat it well I look inside. I look inside the inside of the inside It keeps going, it opens up. How does it get bigger in there? The law of infinity density simultaneously excites and soothes. It tries to find my bhindu, hunt for the central area of the center spot.. My bhindu searches for the inside of the inside of itself.
We play patty cake. Oh jolly play mate… come out and play with me and bring your dollies three, climb up my apple tree, slide down my rain-barrel and through my cellar door and we’ll be jolly friends for ever more more more more more.
It starts out like school boys to their books.
It starts as a duty.
It almost everyday turns into communion.
Several of the people in my inner circle are going threw a first round of not digging their practice as much as they used to. Having been practicing for over twenty five years, I am familiar with that feeling. I no longer think the relationship is over when it gets tough, or even boring….. I know this to be but a phase. Maybe it will last a week, a month, a season…. there have been years when I was less into my practice and years when I was more into my practice.
How I feel about my practice does not concern me. I am so used to me and my practice as partners that even when I hate it, I know we are lifers.