Solstice Puja

 This afternoon, in the moments preceding the longest, darkest night of the year, my son is taking a long, dark nap.  I’ve been using the time to look through some old notebooks and remember some of the things I’ve learned over the years.  Much of what I wrote down was in the tone of someone who knew she would turn around and teach the ideas to people who – for the most part – have not heard any of this before.  Over the past couple of weeks writing this blog, it’s felt really good to stretch my writing muscles and return to a practice that I’d left off for a few months.  But the truth is that so far I’ve played it safe, a little self-conscious about all the other blogs and teachers out there who have no doubt written very similar posts in much more skilled styles.  What I’ve just learned – again – is that I need look no further than right in front of me for worthy inspiration.  It can be uncertain here in the dark, seemingly alone, but there’s always at least a tiny light.  Sit with that little bit, and notice how you are when you’re not obligated to be anything else.  The extended darkness is a free pass to dive into the expansion of your heart.

Breath - If you’ve been out of your heart for a little while, there’s a swan/goose that will take you from your head to that place.  It’s called hamsa.  Don’t think of it like this magical, mystical creature.  Think of it as this sturdy, workhorse bird.  (It’s what I named my bike, the biggest, steadiest old girl that feels safe and secure.)  She will always do her job, and once the breath takes you to the heart, you’ll feel the tug of a narrative that longs to be remembered. 

Deva (Light) - Then, the notebooks that live right beside your bed will become more than just things to dust every week.  Divine inspiration is right in front of you.  It’s whatever you’ve managed to bring close by, for many years or just for today.  It may be something that everyone else already has.  If it draws your attention, it’s worthy.  Let it bring you a little light on a dark afternoon. 

Mantra - Even though you’re alone, there’s a universal chant that’s vibrating.  That it’s a chant (not a song) invites you to listen first, and blend your vibration to the one that’s already happening.  You don’t have to re-invent everything.  Just let it work on you.        

Mudra – My tantric friends and I like to ‘turn our kleshas in to lakshmis’ (turn our blemishes in to beauty marks).  Similarly, we can turn our samskaras in to mudras (our ruts in to receptive imprints).  How can you do the thing you always do, but make it a vessel for experience rather than a dessicated habit? 

Nyasa – This is how!  You’ve probably read/heard all these other terms before, but nyasa might be a new vocabulary word.  It means ‘placing’, as in the way you lay the puja upon yourself.  Start inside, then bring everything outside through mantra and mudra, then lay it back on your own body.  The idea conveys an element of style, and it’s kind of the point.  You have taken yourself down some rabbit hole or other, be it reading, writing, sitting, throwing things in fires, or doing full king pigeon pose.  As far as this is, it’s still just getting you in to a basic story, song, structure.  It’s still what everyone else is doing or has already done.  The rest is articulation and embellishment.  Take it upon yourself to  inspire yourself to inspire others.