Assisted Yoga

Trying to find peace within…



What a rabid and enduring gravity it is that now assails me-invades me in such a way I become diminished by something other than the inevitable death. I assure you, I become less every second-constantly perishing.



Le chat de rue sits on the opposite side of the mat. Le chat de rue is my cat, and tends to be opposite me on several of life’s more pressing issues. His indomitable will settles ponderously on the tile floor, regarding me. One of his favourite things to do, it seems, is regard me.



“Well?“ he seems to say, perpetually waiting.



That is yet another of his preferred activities. Sometimes this will send me into a fit of exasperation. Le chat de rue appears to have found his particular niche in our relationship. With his paws firmly planted on the tile he shifts his gaze to the mat, his eyes are clear and differentiate enthusiastically. It’s such a rational gaze; I feel this every time he looks at me, as he is now, again.



I know he is amused by me. You see I myself have never made any direct action to claim him, hence the impersonal nature of his name-which is not his name at all. Names suggest familiarity. I don’t presume to know him anymore than I know myself. Even if I did, it wouldn’t help because at times I believe I hardly know myself. My name was given to me. I had no say in that.



So he is stuck with just a title, albeit a fanciful one, but it still affects within me relief at it‘s limited duration. But I have to admit Le chat de rue has the quality of a positive aura. His firm stature is an affirmation of life and strength and, much to my chagrin, has a auspicious effect on me. But I still am wont to leave such acquisitiveness to my furry friend. He seems to be the one laying ground rules here. But even still…



My reluctant admission of appreciation for him becomes a current. It is the first trickle of the warmth that imbues me when beginning my yoga practice. My body revels in the habitude, and I have found that the longer I practice the asanas, the more sensitive I become to the fragile and harmonious nuances of rapidity that constitute our lives. I feel empowered.



I step on to my yoga mat and breathe easily; not focusing on controlling it, just letting it take a natural course. I am conscious of Le chat de rue, but not as a physical entity. As I drop all defense, and open myself to all that’s around me, I see what I’m immersed in. I witness among all the clutter, none other than the cat in all the eccentricities of the incorporeal.



My hands meet in front of me and supply a definite pressure. The stabilizing effect this has on me is accentuated by the presence of my furry friend. Our mingling reveals the inconveniences and extravagant tragedies of perceivable life for what they are-satellites. In this state of nothingness with no distractions the silence can be overwhelming, but with time I can acclimate, and conclusions can be drawn easily without the encumbrance of external influence.



I begin to see that my problems are all satellites orbiting with no substantial gravity of their own. And I realize that I am the one holding them in place. If I were to extract myself, they would all speed off at my exclusion. This experience is still new to me. It seem absolute madness to a part of me that can’t rationalize this experience. It is with reluctance at first that I unclench and let the energy flow through me. I let myself go. Completely.



I depart by way of the intricacies inherent in all madness; every nuance is barbed, every licentiate detail is designed to draw blood with exclamatory flavour. All of them thrust deep into me, and the only things I feel are disintegration and joy. And Le chat de rue.