Namaste

“Have Peace. Have Courage.” I’m listening to my heartbeats. After rising from savasana to a comfortable seat, my mind is soothed and calm. “The Light in me salutes the Light in you,” Madeline says and I envision a spark of flame igniting within my chest. “Namaste.”  A soft chorus of namastes echo throughout the studio’s space.

Opening my eyes, I see a beaming Madeline, perched perfectly on her mat in a classic meditative seated pose. She’s my first yoga teacher, the one my fifteen-year-old self magically found.

During this month of glittery hearts, romance and love, I’ve been thinking about Madeline, the gift of Namaste, and relationships, more specifically, people I’m not feeling a lot of love for these days.

I’m contemplating the nature of forgiveness because now seems the time to let go of some grudge residue. More energetic space to Love and less negativity for the Universe is welcomed and needed. My thoughts have turned to the wisdom dwelling within the offering of Namaste.

In Sanskrit, Namaste translates to “I bow to you,” or “you bow to me,” and is typically said at the end of practice with the hands in prayer, anjali mudra, at the heart. It’s a quiet, blissful moment where teacher and students recognize the Divinity within them and acknowledge the Divinity within others.

On my yoga mat (as a student and as a teacher), I am fully committed to seeing the Divine in my fellow yogis. Practicing Namaste off the mat is a challenge, especially recently, because it’s hard for me to see the Divine in the person who sent me a biting facebook message.

Forgiving someone for me is a continual process. My initial reaction is ego fueled: I’ve been wounded, so I strike back in hot words (that probably the said person will never hear, they will be journaled and passionately expressed to kind, listening friends). And when the anger dissipates, I do my best to forgive. I wade through my smoldering emotions and seek for their humanness: “she was really nice to me that one time…”

And then I repeat: I forgive again and again, and I forgive myself again and again, until one day (and that day does arrive) when I feel relatively peaceful toward that person and I can say, Namaste.

As I continue to work on freeing myself and others with forgiveness, I’m returning back to Madeline’s closing line for the practice: “Have Peace. Have Courage. Namaste.” 

Have Peace: I want to feel peaceful in my relationships and toward people that sometimes pop up in my facebook newsfeed. I’m so blessed, so it seems incredibly silly to not hold a little bit more peace in my heart. If I feel resentment toward a person, then I’m taking it as a sign that I need to get quiet, figure out what’s bothering me (typically I’m projecting my own insecurity about something onto that person). Then, set an intention for taking peaceful action: talk about it, write about it, set my boundaries. Sometimes simply acknowledging that I’m going to feel that certain prickliness when I’m with that person helps me dis-identify with those feelings and I can become the observer and just let it go.

Have Courage: “The world is 99.9% projection.” This is one of my dad’s favorite lines. At times, when I’m angry and I just want the other person to be the bad guy, it’s a hard one to digest. It takes courage for me to sit and see my own personal underlying issues in a blowout with someone. The initial “he insulted my intelligence” emotional response soon unveils an already lurking insecurity that I have about my intelligence.

It takes courage to see and own my role in the breakup, but it brings to surface lessons I need to work on and allows me to see and be (grudgingly) grateful to the so called bad guy who in truth is a teacher. It takes courage to not identify with the wounded ego. It takes courage to lovingly decide to either embrace that person back into my life, or gently release them and still wish them well.

Namaste: I’m returning to the beaming Madeline, who so graciously looked past teen awkwardness to see the Divine in my fifteen year old self. She’s my inspiration for living Namaste off the mat. I’m going to need a role model like Madeline who is kind and confident to guide me with these forgiving Namastes. I know it takes effort for me pause the thought storm and silently offer a particular person a Namaste. Ultimately, that moment of higher recognition, that we’re all in this together and just doing the best that we can, lessens the burn, soothes some of the hurt and reconnects me to my true self.

February’s heart-energy gently reminds me that forgiveness is more about me than the other person. The Namaste whispered in the hopes of forgiveness heals past wounds and inspires my heart to continue to glitter and shine.

Dear February, I’m thanking you for the cold that has led me to hibernate and contemplate on the workings of my heart. And to close the month, I say, Have Peace. Have Courage. Namaste.