I Offer You Love, Light, and Blatherskite During this Trying Time
Thank you for joining me on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Clubhouse, Zoom, Google Meet, Facetime, Reddit, LinkedIn, Snapchat, YouTube, TikTok, my podcast, my vlog, and in the cosmos for Love, Light, and Blatherskite. Clever, right? Did you hear the rhyme?
I am not a yoga teacher, but I’ve taken an Intensive, Light, Kundalini, Ashtanga, Ayurveda, Pacifist, Warrior class before and I know how to speak with a feathery voice in that awkward and un-bossy way where every sentence starts with a gerund. I have also gleaned some moth-eaten, vacuous, hoodoo along the way and so I wanted to offer, no, make an offering to the universe during this trying time.
The one thing the universe is teaching us is that we are all united in our desire to go viral on social media so that we become the next Dali Lama or Sri, Sri Ravi Shankar. Or at least Marianne Williamson. Whether through song, dance, or mandala rock paintings, you are helping us see something familiar in all of us — that we are full of shit.
Coming to a seated position.
If sitting on your mat isn’t available to you, you can use a chair. Or lie on your bed. Or recline the driver’s seat of your Audi e-tron Sportback, roll down the windows, and blast Stairway to Heaven. This is your practice.
Removing the flesh from under your sitting bones. I know, removing the flesh is just weird but my Intensive, Light, Kundalini, Ashtanga, Ayurveda, Pacifist, Warrior teacher suggested we do it, so let’s, shall we?
Grounding your sitting bones onto the earth. Or is it “into” the earth?
The earth is there to sit on. It is there under all this concrete, I assure you.
Inhale. Exhale. Noticing your breath.
Oh god, I wonder when I last brushed my teeth.
Listening to the sound of your breath. The sound of your breath mimics the sound of my wife snoring; the sound of Rice Krispies soaking in milk; the sound of Mikey eating Pop Rocks, all of which might be an indication that you have GERD.
Inhale. Exhale.
Releasing your bile into the earth. Letting go. Liberating. Vomiting. This is your practice.
Releasing wind.
Taking a moment to dedicate our practice. Setting an intention.
Your presence; the simple fact that you came to your Audi today, is an offering of love and light to yourself, to the universe, and to me, although this offering is really for me. Would it kill you to hit share on this video?
Sending out extra love and light to those without Internet, who are joining us through the cosmos and feeling our vibes.
Believing in flapdoodle.
Sending out love and light to those who are suffering more than we are, at this moment. Because in this moment, we are breathing.
If you are having trouble breathing, please call your medical provider, unless you are fully inoculated and have been quarantining appropriately. In that case, you are probably experiencing a panic attack.
Inhale. Exhale. Noticing your breath, which I know is the last thing you want to notice during a panic attack.
Taking a moment of gratitude. Gratitude, is a divine pause from reality. Thinking of something you are grateful for. Your children, perhaps? Unlikely. Long year. Tight quarters. Your health? Also unlikely. Long year. Stress donuts. The presidential election? Ahhhhh, yes.
Picking one thing, attaching it to a cloud in your mind. Watching the cloud float away.
Oh shit, I just watched Joe Biden float away. Please don’t go. Joe!
Darn it, sorry, I got that wrong. Trying again.
Letting go of stress. Holding on to the things for which we are grateful for.
Remembering all things are ephemeral. Even this moment. Relaxing because even my blathering will be over soon.
Remembering that anxiety is merely fearing the future — a time that is not in the present — which is unknown and scary as shit. No one knows what will happen tomorrow. No one knows the long-term effects of the vaccine. No one knows if Gramma will ever breathe without a ventilator again either. Reminding the anti-vaxxers of this fact.
Staying with your breath. Your breath is the present — a time that is not in the future — which is also scary as shit.
Dedicating our practice to those who are no longer breathing. Remembering our ancestors, unless you are a descendent of the Daughters of the Revolution, or slave owners, or Woody Allen.
Never-minding to remember our ancestors.
Remembering not to have children, if it’s not too late.
Bringing your hands between your tits.
Inhale. Exhale.
Taking a communal om. Inhale. Releasing all of your breath. Inhale.
Ooooooooaaaaaaauuuuuuummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!
Coming to all fours. Oh fuck that. Go doggy style.
