Memory is a complicated thing, a relative to truth, but not its twin. ~Barbara Kingsolver, Animal Dreams
Just before we did the three seated poses in the Mother Sequence this past Tuesday, I was inspired to ask, "Of course you're all accessing feelings of joy while inhaling, aren't you?" I tallied the smiles and smirks as I moved into the poses myself. This is the one class in which I participate in every pose and offer little or no corrections, aside for the blaring safety issues.
When I twisted into the pose, Matsyangasana, a thought popped into my head: "So....if I have the choice to feel happy in the present moment, why can't I do the same about something that happened in the past?"
When I twisted into the pose, Matsyangasana, a thought popped into my head: "So....if I have the choice to feel happy in the present moment, why can't I do the same about something that happened in the past?"
In the next few breaths (out of the requisite twelve) I ran through scenes from the past few years and literally edited them. I changed the sound bytes for the stored mental videos and altered accusations into accreditations, given and received. I felt better about myself and all of the other characters in my scenes.
Call me psychotic for not facing reality but what good does memory serve if it doesn't enhance your present or your future? Besides, even short-term stress has been found to impair memory and learning so you may not even have a firm grasp of the details of that displeasing event anyway.
After class, I found an e-mail message with a thoroughly fascinating video of Jill Bolte Taylor, described best by TED:
One morning, a blood vessel in Jill Bolte Taylor's brain exploded. As a brain scientist, she realized she had a ringside seat to her own stroke. She watched as her brain functions shut down one by one: motion, speech, memory, self-awareness ... Amazed to find herself alive, Taylor spent eight years recovering her ability to think, walk and talk. She has become a spokesperson for stroke recovery and for the possibility of coming back from brain injury stronger than before. In her case, although the stroke damaged the left side of her brain, her recovery unleashed a torrent of creative energy from her right. From her home base in Indiana, she now travels the country on behalf of the Harvard Brain Bank as the "Singin' Scientist." Watch the video (18:00)
By the end of the eighteen minute presentation, I felt as though I had reviewed and understood my entire life, thoughts and actions: it's been a constant foray between the left and right sides of my brain. Yoga, particularly the Mother Sequence with it's focus of blending movement, breath and emotions, has taught me how to waltz between the hemispheres. I think, the next sequence will teach me how to tango.