Saturday's meditation session theme was "Space." We chatted-well, I chatted-about our perceptions of Self as "This Subject" and "That Object" and how Subject/Object might be connected, entangled, united. We explored our hands, asking "Who" was the Explorer? We took a journey into our bodies, on the mats, then expanded into the space around us, the streets outside, our city, our Earth. We travelled through Space and Time to that which is "No Space," what we cannot name. We returned to our bodies on the mats and finished with an exploration of whether Subject/Object had been changed in any way. I don't know the answers and they don't matter, anyway (thanks, Heather!), but it was a trip.
After that, I attended a Bodha class in which I explored how to fall over in space, then headed to Teacher Training at the new studio. It was fitting that, on the first day of training in this gorgeous, open room, Colin announced that we were to explore a different kind of space. While he and Sarah met with each student individually in a nearby coffee shop, the rest of us spent the day writing class scenarios and teaching each other. The opportunity and space to practice like this brought us together in a way that hadn't happened yet in teacher training. Until that day, the group had been friendly, supportive, but something shifted during this session. We critiqued one another in kindness. People who rarely voiced opinions stepped up and took leadership roles. We chatted; we wrote; we questioned. By the end of the day, everyone was tired, but for me, at least, the space between My Self and The Other Students had closed and I felt as if this collection of diverse people had become "A Group." Judging by the comments from fellow yoga practitioners, others felt this, too.
Now, I'm packed for an exploration of a different kind of space, in a new, but familiar place where I've made several connections outside the family unit. When I travel, I usually haul my laptop along so that I can write and blog and perhaps do a little work while I'm away. This time, I've decided to approach things differently. Half my suitcase is filled with knitting, spinning, and drawing supplies-activities that I can do physically, rather than reading or writing about them. This time, the computer stays home. If I wish to write, I have a notebook and pens. If I want to record something, my reliable old camera will be in my purse. I don't own a cell phone and my daughter doesn't have a landline phone, so the world will have to get along without me for the next 10 days. It will be tough, I'm sure, but somehow everyone will cope without my deep thoughts and wise words. Think of it as a gift of Space.