Pink Rose: Bud to Blossom by avissarahmanita
There is never a dull moment to practice.
Is it night sweats caused by extra spice or sugar from dinner last night, a muscle spasm from a disturbing dream, or something else? The condition has been ongoing for three years, evading a specific diagnosis, even by my own medical mind.
I do not like this mysterious condition that causes a significant portion of the back body and limbs to tense and contract. Trying to attack it with many modalities, including hormone replacement therapy, dietary changes, cooling the ambient temperature of the room, more conscientious and calming sleep hygiene before bed, I'm up again this morning before the alarm.
Fearful and frustrated, I’m inspired to try a different approach. Laying on my back, the support of the bed supported by the earth is grounding. Compassionate breath fills the whole body with a soothing, intimate massage from the inside out. Metta flows in abundance. A fire is lit in the heart’s hearth in reverence for this phenomenon, trusting the body's wisdom for a meaningful practice to arise.
Susurrations of the words contraction and e x p a n s i o n are heard from another dimension, imploring me to embody them in this one. I realize I’m dealing with a duality! A vision of a flower expanding in sunlight on the inbreath and contracting in darkness on the outbreath begins to fill the body. Expansion depends on contraction; contraction is born from expansion.
I slow the breathing down intentionally to feel the whole transition of bud to blossom, growth to compression. Bud and blossom are not separate, connected by a meaningful continuum. I’m invited to love the whole cycle, softening the preference for one or the other. The effect is humility and awe at the design of human experience. The blossom, the expansion is only part of the sacred story.
There is never a dull moment to practice.
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