beauty | Paper Clay Nature

“…let the meteor of your laughter fly: electrify the natural names of things!”
~Pablo Neruda*

There came a day recently when I realized that there wasn’t enough beauty in my life. Not because beauty did not exist–within me, around me, near me and within my reach. I was not opening my eyes to it, feeling it, seeking it out and making it a priority. When I came to this awareness of the separation I had created between myself and beauty, I decided to return to some of my favorites from the past: Shakespeare, novels, poetry, music, dancing and sitting in the library. It is within these things that I find the connective tissue in between my existence and beauty in the form of hints, reminders, clues, rhythm and creative inquiry.

Although this is entirely taken out of context, I find this mantra to be brutal, sharp and instructive: Let the meteor of your laughter fly. Electrify the natural names of things.

Today, I tune into my capacity for laughter. A laughter with velocity, speed and the kind that carries the debris of my experience out of my body and transforms it into heat and light. Today I speak with electricity and do not take for granted the names of things or my capacity to speak of them.

I hope with all my heart that this mantra or even just this quick reminder that beauty is yours to behold whenever you choose help you connect with the parts of yourself that were made from the same elements of the stars.

Posted by Sharon Fennimore, a rogue anthropologist, mind-body coach, yogini and doula based in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. In town? Come take a yoga and meditation class with me.

*(pg. 519, Translation by Stephen Tapscott, The Poetry of Pablo Neruda 2003)

“This is what you should do: love the earth and the sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to everyone that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men…re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss what insults your own soul, and your very flesh shall be a great poem.”

WALT WHITMAN

Whitman suggests here what every yogi knows–the choices we make with our mind are reflected in our bodies. This is beauty. You know when you are in the room with beauty. Thinking back on all the beauties you have been around you know that it isn’t the type of beauty that Cover Girl is selling that sticks with you. The beauty that you see in others is their poem and the memory of it is a song that vibrates through your own body poem.

As we move through various asana (yoga poses), we have an opportunity to try on different characters and ways of moving and being in the world. One minute a warrior, then next a dog—only to transform with just one breath into a pigeon and end up a cheeky little monkey. Through this experiment, we find that we can listen to the poem of our body. Sometimes, the poem rides the rhythm of the breath. Other times, it is our grunts and the sounds of our effort. Crow or cow face, there is no yogi in history that does not come up against some darkness. Sometimes, the poem of our bodies in practice is a ballad uncomfortably narrated by cellular memories we have not before dared to expose. Sometime, the poem of our bodies is like going out for dessert at midnight. Delicious.

Here is a simple way to listen to your body and get in touch with the poem of your flesh:

Lie down on your back somewhere comfortable. Before you lie down, take off your shoes and socks, watch and release your hair from any clips or bands. Place one hand over your heart and the other hand over your navel. Feel the rise of your body as you take an in breath. Feel your navel drop down towards your spine as you exhale. Do this for as long as you like. The mind will wander, but you don’t need to follow it. As soon as you notice that your attention has drifted away from feeling the breath move through the body, you just return to watching your next in breath.

When you feel ready, bring your awareness to the soles of your feet. As you inhale, feel the energy of the breath enter through your feet. Relax the space between your toes, ankles and the bones in your feet. Feel the connection of your palm to your heart and your palm to your navel center. There was once a time when you received all of your information about the world and all that sustained you through your navel. Allow this breath moving through your feet and palms to remind you of your origins, your roots.

Inhale a deep breath as you release your hands and bring your arms up over your head. STRETCH and reach through your arms and hands as you point your toes. Hug your knees in to your chest and rock from side to side.

Come up to sit for a moment. See how you feel. If your flesh was a poem now, what would it be?

Keep up with the poetry Pittsburgh yogis!

Posted by Sharon Fennimore Rudyk
Director, Yoga Matrika in Pittsburgh, PA
https://www.yogamatrika.com/

Tag: beauty

Meteor of Your Laughter

Make a Poem of your Flesh