Bhakti Bliss--lessons off the mat.

I just returned home from Kripalu after spending five glorious days there, including ringing in the New Year "yogi style."  Having spent the last two New Year's Eve in similar environments, I must admit that I can't imagine doing it any other way.  To my surprise, well not really because I often miss the fine print, I had signed up for a four day program, not just a celebration on New Year's Eve.  From Thursday-Sunday I attended "Bhakti Bliss."  For those of you unfamiliar with Bhakti or Bhakti Yoga, it loosely means spiritual devotion or love for God and is often practiced via Kirtan or chants.  Whether participating in the traditional call and response chants or being part of the drum circle, dancing in the aisles or listening to stories told to music, I was completely absorbed in the experience......but not from the start.

As my last one-sentence post indicated, I have been going through some holiday transitions. When I landed at Kripalu on that Thursday, I was one of many I would soon discover, that didn't necessarily feel completely grounded.  In fact, when I sat down Thursday night and realized I had signed up for a four day program, despite it being largely Kirtan which I love, and having the evening start with David Newman and Sean Johnson (amazing!)  I thought "shit, I can't do this for four days."  My habitually programmed flight or fight response kicked in and I thought "No worries, you don't have to show up to every session if you don't want.  You really only thought you payed for the New Year's celebration anyhow. You can work out more, do MORE yoga, read, roam the grounds....anything but sit!"  However, in keeping with my continued efforts to stay present and attend to one moment and one day at a time, I decided I would just go to the morning session the next day and see from there.  That is when I walked into the drum circle...kicked off by frame drum poetry performed by the most amazing male kindergarten teacher, yogi, drummer, artist, story teller, gentle and humorous soul.  It was during that time, seated in a circle, feet crossed lotus style in my chair, that I was truly able to scan the faces in the room; the opposite of homogeneous, to say the least.  Men and women, old and young, black and white and every shade in between.  There were groups of people, single people and coupled-people; of all sexual orientations.  I would later learn there were married people, separated people and recently divorced people.  There were people mourning loss and those celebrating gain.  There were able-bodied people....most, in fact, despite the heterogeneous body types in the room, were able-bodied. And then, there was the young couple to my right.  When we passed the drums to share, she passed.  Sometimes her husband participated and sometimes he passed with her.  When her two beautiful friends spontaneously got up and danced to the drums, she sat.  It was then that I noticed the tears streaming down her face, her hands slightly crippled, her jaw clenching to hold back the sobs. My first thought was MS, as her gait seemed unsteady and broken.  Her husband appeared gentle yet stoic; supporting her physically and emotionally when needed.

Over the next hour, finding my own rhythm, with my heart and the drums, I felt myself sinking more and more into the experience.  "This is good, I thought. Maybe I can do this."  One moment at a time.  Towards the end of the two hour workshop, with the energy of the room matching the heightened intensity of the drum beat, a quarter of the room had left their drums to dance in the middle with raw, wild abandon.  It was at that moment that our gentle soul leader witnessed the embrace of the two friends; one freely spinning and smiling and the other sitting and sobbing.  He came to the young woman and whispered something in her ear.  She nodded. After a few more minutes of drumming and dancing, we were invited to sit on the floor and the young woman was guided to the middle by her friend. Her husband, whom for some reason I wanted to hug from the moment I saw him, followed slowly and sat around her with us.  We were asked to either lay our hands on the young woman or on someone who was touching her.  One of my hands reached out for her husband, the other to the person on my left.  It was simple, it was healing, it was natural.  After a few minutes, with the approval of the young woman, people hugged her and then made their way out of the room. So many people around her, you could barely see her.  I sat.  Our leader quickly made the comment that the husband may need hugs as well.  It was then that I saw the husband let his tears begin to flow.  I immediately asked his permission and we embraced. Then I left the room.  

Over the course of the next two days there was an energy among the group that to me defines the spirit of yoga.  There was a connection, an understood like-mindedness of what we were all seeking, whether we knew it or not.  Peace; of mind, heart and spirit through a shared community of love and devotion for God.....as defined by the individual.  The New Year's Eve celebration brought it all together for many and they even had to set up a "satellite" party in the next yoga room because all who wanted to attend, could not get in!  It was Dick Clark in Times' Square meets MC Yogi @ Kripalu.  But that wasn't even the best part.

To make a long story long (as my brother likes to say--about me!) the true impact for me hit on Sunday in our closing 2 hours together.  It started with the five bands who had performed the past four days all sitting and playing together; the caller changing naturally throughout. Then we were invited to share anything we wanted about our time together.  For two minutes no one spoke. Then a brave soul took the microphone.  The next forty-five minutes was sharing, crying, laughing, rinse/repeat.  As I always like to say "everyone has a story."  I listened, cried, smiled, identified and felt fulfilled.  When the husband of the aforementioned couple stood up to speak, you could hear a pin drop.  It was obvious, as he later stated, that he had not done anything like this before.  His words expressing the love he felt from the group and how necessary it was for him at this time in his life were simple yet profound.  I wanted to reach out and hug him again.  Later, when his wife attempted to speak, it was if the world stood still.  Struggling to get her words out, due to crying and the nature of her illness (still tbd), everyone waited, and waited, and waited.  The singers at the front of the room put down their instruments, eyes softening, love releasing into the air.  No one cared how long it took.  When she finally did get her words out, she expressed first the inability for her body to absorb all of the love and healing she was feeling from the group. This was a true physiological block.  Her body was unable to absorb what her heart and mind were feeling.  It was difficult yet inspiring to watch.  Briefly she thanked the group and told us that there was a blog site to follow her journey with this illness if we were interested.

After going back and forth as to whether or not I wanted to share (and yes, feel free to insert joke here), I realized that I had learned something about myself those last four days and in particular, the last two hours.  Like everyone else, I struggled to share without crying.  What came out resembled something like this "Has anyone ever read Shel Silverstein?  I feel a bit like his book, The Missing Piece Meets the Big O.  Years ago I attended the Sivananda Ashram in the Bahamas where I was first exposed to chanting.  It is an understatement to say that I loved it.  Just ask my sister.  I was humming and chanting wherever we were after that trip.  Upon my return is when I really got into Yoga, but never really found anything that had the level of chanting that I had experienced there.. and I wanted more of it.  I had never even heard the word Kirtan but bought the book on Kirtan chants.  I bought CD's and listened to them in my car and at work.  They provide me peace and a sense of calm and joy.  And I could even sing on tune!  I felt more spiritual.  I felt closer to God, as identified by me.  The few occasions I have had the opportunity to attend a Kirtan, I have.  Though those occasions only lasted a few hours, they filled me.  What I realized these past few days is that this Yoga of Devotion/Love is what has been missing, and I didn't even know it.  I have found a missing piece and I thank you all for showing it to me and sharing it with me." 

As I walked out the door, I stopped and asked the young woman for her blog information.  She said it was KIMALS@wordpress.  By the time I got to the bottom of the stairs I was 99% certain that ALS was Lou Gehrig's disease.  Kim can't be older than 35.  She has a 4 year old son.  I went right to the cafe and pulled up her website.  She was only diagnosed in mid-November.  I read just one post to start and the impact on me was tremendous.  I found her and thanked her.

I don't know much, but I know how much love can change the world.