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A Gory Savasana

Written: October 5th, 2013

This seemed something private that I wasn’t going to share with many people, but somehow getting those really gory, super secret juicy details out in the open is majorly refreshing.

At Level One … I believe it was day four (that is questionable because it all seemed like a long flowing dream that somehow now has to be pieced together). An experience happened – manifesting within a few days. But an overall ‘conclusion’ an out-of-body experience that was pretty surreal.

On the night of meditation and our noble silence I had a really vivid dream. An aerial view of a rocky mountainside with cottages, tiny, winding streets and scattered boulders. Zoom in a little further and it’s my town, where I’m currently living, in a small apartment up on a hillside surrounded by what looks like gravestones. Grey, solid headstones placed sporadically along the windy roads. It’s me, living in solitude up on the hillside in a tiny apartment. I’m driving along taking in the scene and realizing I’m living in a graveyard. This is my life. I’m in limbo, purgatory… Surrounded by death. As if it’s a daily thing – running errands, food shopping and making my way home.

I’m in my tiny hallway type kitchen, unloading groceries from brown paper bags onto the white formica counter tops. I hear the screen door open and slam closed, I look up and Harvey is there. He is as he was when he was sick – skinny, clothes hanging off of him. He’s wearing his grey Ralph Lauren V-neck long sleeve shirt with the blue trim and a blue baseball hat on backwards. Smiling of course – my stomach flips, butterflies as soon as I see him, like usual from the day I met him til the day he died. We chat for a few and it’s perfectly normal – like everyday on a mountain side graveyard is. Then there’s blood. I’m not sure from where it’s coming or where it’s going but I see drops of it, and puddles. Crimson, dark, deep… it fills up the space.

Real time – the next morning after meditation and hours of asana. I see blood. My mat is red and every time sweat drips off of me it looks like droplets of blood. Is it? It seems like it, I feel it. Savasana is called and I seem to float up out of my body and look down on myself. I see me laying on my red mat surrounded in ‘blood’, and my bones are there – visible. Like an X-ray would look, each bone laid out. But they are clear and barely there, yellowish and weak looking, like an old bone looks after it’s been dried out – nothing to it. ‘Let it Be’ starts playing. Tears… pour out, unstoppable. Dripping down from my face to meet my blood and sweat on my mat. Uncontrollable crying and release and I just let go.

The next morning… meditation, asana. Savasana. Again, I see my body lying on my mat, my bones come into view but they are white – bright, pure and strong, like milk. More tears, and strength. I walked off of my mat that morning and felt strength. Strength that I possibly hadn’t felt in forever.

I got to feel true pain – pain to gain strength, pain to let go. Pain that I never let myself feel, or was able to feel. Harvey’s pain – what he felt in his bones. What was making me weak – was gone. Let go of, released.

Strength, Power, Freedom – gained.

The Wound is Where the Light Enters" -Rumi.


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