savasana rising

the past two days, my private practice sessions have ended in savasanas of pure bliss, and those savasanas themselves, have ended in blissful visions of nature. My savasana normally consists of gentle music, feeling my body sinking lovingly into the mat (the floor is your reliable partner :), random thoughts and visions fleeting through my mind, slipping into a gentle trance of emptiness... seconds, minutes, or hours later, something happens, and my body's response is to draw in a deeeeeeeeeeep breath, followed by a loooooooooooong exhale, open my eyes, and see what the world has brought me for a present.

Yesterdays present was the sound of a thousand bird laughing. I rose slowly, and was amaze to see that my entire front yard was completely covered with sparrows. Excitedly and without thought, I ran out the door and into the yard, where suddenly all at once every bird there lifted off and squaked loudly. For a moment the entire sky was black with the silouhettes of birds in flight and the sounds of natural alarm. It was exquisite! I thanked the Goddess and smiled as I entered the rest of the day.

Today was a slightly shorter practice (45 minutes or so), yet my savasana was so perfect, right in a large pool of sun coming in the tall dining room window. Again slipped into a deep trance of void / emptiness / black... this time is was not sound, but rather touch, that awakened me. Still in deep relaxation, eyes closed, I gradually came aware of a moist, cool, rough surface on the tips of my fingers. Seconds later, I realised I was being licked. As I opened my eyes, the puppy licks moved up my forearm, to my inner elbow, then bicep. A little basset hound puppy was there! I had to laugh, and at that, she went for my ears.

These are the presents of savasana. Practice makes perfect!

Bhagavan Das plays the Sitar

A sitar is a very complicated instrument. This one had dozens of strings, and I didn't know how to tune it. I didn't know where to begin, so I left it in the empty room next to Ram Dass' room. Every day I'd bring it flowers and worship it as Sarasvati -- the goddess of music, art, and letters. For weeks I sat with it and meditated.

One day, the sitar spoke to me and told me to pick it up. I picked it up very respectfully, as if I was holding a beautiful woman in my arms. Then it said, "Tune me." And I started tuning the strings. For the next couple weeks I spent hours tuning the sitar, never playing it. Finally, something happened and it all came together. I started to play. But it didn't feel like I was playing the sitar -- it felt like the sitar was playing me. Sarasvati was playing the sitar by using my fingers. I never had a lesson. I just surrendered to the Goddess. The music was sublime.

-- Bhagavan Dass, "It's Here Now (Are You?)

Practice

He explained how yogis and holly men travelled and how people gave them free food so they could focus exclusively on their inner practices. If you meditated a lot, people in India felt that you were doing good work that benefits everyone. You purified the psychic airwaves, so they took care of you. (Its not like in the United States, where, when people hear you're focusing on a spiritual life, they roll their eyes and tell you to get a job.)

In India, being a full-time meditator is a job, which comes with a great benefits package.

- from It's Here Now (Are You?),
by Bhagavan Das