There are days when I soar. Filled with joy and love and clarity. Abounding in a sense of purpose and wellness. Knowing everything is perfect and that the Universe conspires to fulfill my desires...
... and then there are times like these, when that person seems so distant and these words are only slightly comforting. The left over hopes of a happier time.
It is interesting to read about the cycles of womanhood. Of how our physical hormones wreak havoc with our emotions. Turning yesterday's self assured female into a hopeless mass of tears.
It always catches me by surprise. All this emotion. The most unexpected thing will set me off and in the time it takes for me to identify the cause I have questioned all the basic tenets of my core beleifs.
I find myself wondering where my faith factors into all this. Does it serve to simply blunten the edge of the pre-menstrual anxiety? Does this experience provide a contrast to help me appreciate the times I am more carefree? Is it really necessary? Can my faith overcome my biology?
I've recently started to do Yoga and Pilates regularly. I love yoga because of its wholistic approach to the body. It goes where most spiritual teachings fail to go. To the body. Because inevitably our spiritual experience will be affected by our physical vessel.
I guess I can talk about awareness and wellness and wholeness all day long but nothing I say can totally prepare me for the experience. But doing... doing takes it to another level. Doing takes my spirituality to the core of my human experience. To my body.
It is not a question of overcoming. It is a question of allowing, inviting it in.
And I come to see that everything is perfect, the Universe conspires to fulfill my desires and I start to feel this feeling stirring inside of me.
