-Howard Thurman
I've been entertaining the flu for the past two weeks. All that's left is a lagging and unwelcome cough, but during the first week I was only able to get out of bed long enough to discern that I was alive and living somewhere in Hawaii.
I might have had a fever, I don't know. I wasn't awake long enough to feel hot or cold, or sore, or hungry. During one lucid moment I told myself that I was behaving like a retired slug!
Deprivation is a stern teacher of appreciation. As I regain my usual energy level, my senses (sight, hearing, taste, touch and smell) are what I appreciate most. One would assume that taste would be first and foremost but I find that I'm enjoying and craving, the sense of hearing.
I'm in love with sounds of my exterior: roosters crowing, trucks braking, and birds arguing for position at the feeder that hangs from a tree outside my door. All of the sounds within my living space are melodious and rhythmic: the whirring fan in my laptop, my wind chime and refrigerator, even the the trilling geckos.
Then there are the sounds archived somewhere in the seams and folds of my brain. I remember my old friend Mr. B., singing 'I don't want to set the world on fire', as he tossed golf balls onto the mat for me, making sure I stayed on the driving range. That's a memory sound byte that's nearly 30 years old but in the last few days it's played over and over. Watching
We experience, interpret, and remember life through our five senses. As we grow and mature, we learn to trust and follow our own senses, rather than those of the masses. In yoga, the next evolutionary step is to release our attachment to our senses. It is the practice of pratyahara.
Here's what I interpret the yoga sutras to say about this: "You've put your senses on cruise control, auto pilot. You'll continue to believe that you have no control until you remember that YOU and cruise control are distinct and separate entities."
That might be the opportune moment to ask for what we would like our senses to perceive: everything I hear, is music to my ears; all the sounds I recall, are happy love songs; I see only what is good in people; only the foods that are good for me, taste good, etc. When our senses and/or our beliefs are held in suspension, we lie open to divine suggestions. If I truly learned a lesson, I guess my days in stupor did not mean I was ill. I just took a few days off to get better.
Listen to: I Don't Want To Set The World On Fire (by The Ink Spots)
Read: Did You Hear?, another post I wrote about the subject of hearing. The 2 comments that follow are worth the time!
Photo:CultivateGreatness.com