Thursday, July 27, 2006

Swami Satchidananda, Yogaville, Virginia


The Meditator: My eyes were closed but I knew it was her when she left the room, a few minutes later she came back, her presence announced by the rattle of the door knob, then a sudden slam and the door closed behind her with a dull click. I felt her pass me with a carefree air as if she was entering a shopping mall, her scent momentarily distracting my own space. She walked back back to her mat as if she was the only one, the only one in the room. She had a distinctive walk: a drag and a shuffle, her back foot would drag behind her as her front foot shuffled ahead, shoulders drooping toward her belly, head moving forward past her shoulders, eyes fixed, chin jutting. I opened one eye and stole a peek in time for me to see her plop down on her mat, cross her legs and look around the room like a three year old waiting for something to happen and then like a three year old she suddenly noticed that everyone was still meditating in the exact same positions as when she left. She shrugged her shoulders, moved her head from side to side, as if remembering, ‘oh yes we are meditating’ and closed her eyes, her smile intact in the moment, in the present, oblivious and yet there.

1 comment:

neil furby said...
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