Two drops of sweet sweat journey, one right after the other, off the tip of my nose and connect with my yoga mat, expanding in various directions; my personal Rorschach sweat-blot. Snowflake maybe?
Wait, my drishti. I turn away from my snowflake and bring a soft, focused gaze back to my extended upper arm.
Inhale, come up to stand. I look over at the yogini next to me. Beautiful, serene face. Effortless form.
I wait for my mind to make its conclusion of thought or feeling based on what my eyes absorbed. But there is just one thought: sacred solidarity.
After 28 trips around the sun, I have created & proudly sustained a vulnerable space in my heart for the women in my life.
I have created friendships where reciprocity is expected, not hoped for.
Instead of diminishing them or comparing myself to them, I am inspired by and rejoice with them.
This has been no small endeavor.
My stomach still tightens with a great awareness that, out of uncertainty & a lot of unwillingness, I spent so many years bullying my vulnerability....and I lost the potential magic of brilliant female friendships in the process. I know this isn’t completely my fault. I know that the patriarchal mass media-driven world is fueled by a culture of comparison. We are not taught to be soft; in speech or in form (this goes for both men and women).
So I make a choice every day to celebrate my vulnerable heart. I will not apologize for it. I will look at the woman next to me, sitting radiantly in full lotus, and I will celebrate her.
I will uplift her.
I will thank her.