Your timeline, your trajectory
Elegant it wasn't. Enlightening it was. Imperative it is. Transformation is messy. Like a field goes from frozen to fruiting, we do too. What and when we harvest is much less predictable, as our seasons are not based on a sun in the sky, but in our hearts, and our prakrti needs to be arranged just right, so that it's influence becomes tangible. Interventions and how we internalize them in our vijñānamaya yield results, some expected, many unexpected. Yoga's concept of transformation isn't forced: it's uncovered, when, where and how it will be. Stay on the path with our upcoming and ongoing programming, as our sanga is a dedicated one, and we move together continuously via this connection.
Pivotal KYM experiences that ensured my lessons were learned always remain etched in my own timeline. A dear colleague and I shared the same chanting teacher. We also, in an unusual manner, discovered we were learning the same chant.
“I’m learning a new chant because Radha knows I want to buy a house,” I shared.
“I’m learning a new chant because Radha knows I want grandchildren,” she responded.
Sure enough, she taught us, separately and with our own, personal bhāvana-s, the same mantra, one key for utilizing visualization as a key catalyst for co-reating the circumstances we want to manifest, in conjunction with natural and divine forces. I purchased a house, she has grandchildren, on our own timelines, on different sides of the country, nearly a decade later. Between diligent practices, visualization and patience, we received our blessings
Yoga initially attracted me for personal transformation reasons, not as exercise for the body; however, I got sidetracked, practicing Yoga in NYC in the mid to late 90s. It was replete with Ashtanga and Vinyasa classes, I was young and flexible, and it was a match made in asmitā heaven (which we all know cannot last long). One day, in the foyer of the KYM, our dear Sir, TKV Desikachar, entered and greeted myself and two of his long-term students, eminent German psychoanalysts, all at the same time. He introduced us and readily asked my to do Uttānāsana for them, right in the vestibule, in the middle of the waiting room.
Can you say mortified? My āsana asmitā collapsed, died and was cremated, then and there. While concurrently praising and teaching me, Sir ensured the attachment he saw I had to my body did not persist. His foresight is unmatched, as coming from a family entrenched in fashion and beauty, plagued with addiction, mental illness and eating disorders, my path could have easily led my to a cliff early on. Instead, truly inspired by my flexibility, he highlighted it and pulled the plug on my pride, leading me to seek much deeper learning. I still battle internally with familial and societally-induced impulses, but my timeline, guidance and practice is leading me closer to, not further from, my true self. Your’s will too, if you stay the path.