Relaxed~Yoga’s Middle Way Between Limp & Rigid

In yoga, relaxed and rigid are not opposites. Limp and rigid are opposites. Relaxed is the middle way.

Relaxedness arises as the breath eases, the head clears, and the heart opens. Relaxedness is a result of discipline. Discipline is the way to liberation.

Dancers know that the dedicated practice of technique frees the body to leap as if gravity didn’t exist. A great pianist practices daily scales, knowing that years of repeating scales is the ground from which flights of improv soar.

If your body is limp or rigid, check your mental stance, check your feeling stance. The body is a reflection of thinking and feeling.

A rigid body reflects rigid thinking and rigid feeling, a stiffening of the authentic, fluid vitality of being into a very narrow artery of clog.

A limp body reflects limp thinking and limp feeling, a puddling of your authentic, vital, alive, and magnificently wild self into shapeless, shallow pools of blah.

The spacious silent abode of yoga mind liberates us from a rigid resistance or limp resignation to the frustrating finitudes of life. Relaxed is the transcendent third, the middle way, the balancing agent, the springboard into radiant possibility.

Relaxed synergizes the good fortitude of the rigid stance and the good softness of the limp stance into an energetic powerhouse of magnetized potential. Rigid becomes flexible with softness loosening it. Limp becomes resilience with fortitude strengthening it.

A daily practice in yoga mind enhances our energetic radiance and liberates us into the infinite potentialities of the relaxed, non-attached awareness.

The relaxed, non-attached awareness frees our wild potentialities into useable energy and useful attraction action that helps dreams come true.

 

A Wild And Singular Life

Whatever the universe may do in some distant future—spin, shrink, disappear, start over—the universe, right now, is vibrantly expanding. Expansion seems to be its driving urge.

From the Big Bang, right down to the explosion of binary cell division that resolves into a complexly evolving fetus, The Universe seems intent on expanding more and more life, complexity, beauty, abundance into its vast body.

From the exquisitely patterned developmental stages of a healthy disposition, into the full throttle thrown into wish fulfillment, we are coded with an expansive desire for growth.

From crystalline structures in snowflakes, frost patterns on windows, and sparkling symmetries in rare gems buried in layers of rock, fractal iterations throughout Nature insist on unfolding and expanding our wonderment.

You are one of those unfoldingments. You are the desire of the evolutionary impetus to further itself. You are the smouldering ember of desire’s next big bang.

“Tell me,” writes Mary Oliver, “what is it you plan to do with your one, wild and precious life?”[i]

That’s a crazy sexy inspiring question. That question can set the heart on fire. It can set the mind to scanning the psychic landscape for those embers of potentiality that, when tended, burst into destiny’s living fire.

If you don’t feel any spark in you, try this exercise: take Mary Oliver’s question with you as you walk through your days and weeks.

What is it I plan to do with my one, wild and precious life?

Repeat it like a mantra, a prayer, a favourite song lyric.

Write it on binder covers, notebook margins, journal headers, doodle scraps.

Post it on cupboards and mirrors and fridge doors.

Post it on Facebook and Twitter statuses.

Let it seep in, remind you, become you. Just let it in, over and over. Then let go.

Let go of outcome agendas.

Let that question expand your mind, fill your heart, and inspire your whole being to transcend current limitations.

What you impress upon your subconscious mind over and over begins to arrange itself in patterns beyond the conscious mind’s imagining.

Let that question in. What do you plan to do with your one wild and singular life?

Let the answers flow. Become what you most singularly must become in your one wildish soul.

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[i] Oliver, Mary (1992). New and Selected Poems, ‘A Summer Day.’ Boston: Beacon Press, p. 94.