Showing posts with label The Aztec. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Aztec. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Weekend Confession


I left town without really telling anyone so it wasn’t a huge surprise that my family kept calling me.  Nor was it surprising, considering the circumstances, that I didn’t answer.

People have a tendency to fear what they don’t understand and I’d be hard pressed to explain to my Catholic family how important it was for me to be present at a sweat lodge ceremony in St. Louis, Missouri the weekend before I move.

But, remember how I promised to be more honest?  In efforts to demystify my spiritual excursions and to gain understanding and respect for my beliefs and practices I’d like to share something I’ve never shared publicly before.

The sweat lodge is a native American/indigenous ritual of purification.  This purification comes in several forms: the physical: sweating out toxins; the mental: watching that smoking mirror of consciousness; the emotional: that release of what no longer serves us and finally, the spiritual: offering prayers in the form of sweat, songs and words as a community.

I cannot do the sweat lodge justice in describing the various symbolic meanings or the precise ritual.  These things are meant to be experienced rather than read about.  Each lodge can be different depending on who is running it and what tribe they belong to.  At best, I can merely describe my own experience and what it means to me.

I placed my medicine bag on the altar after being smudged with the sweet smoke of copal.  I humbled myself on my knees and pressed my forehead to the earth before entering.  “Ometeotl,” I whispered to the earth.  The lodge was shaped like a turtle – I crawled on hands and knees clockwise with respect to the fire pit in the center before reaching my spot.  Everyone else followed suit until we were a circle symbolizing that we were all equal once we entered the earth’s womb, the temazcal.

We welcomed hot stones warmed by the morning’s fire and were sealed in complete darkness.  We prayed as the water pourer made it hotter and the air thicker. 

It is in the darkness with the support of a spiritual community that I am able to enter a different state of consciousness.  The heat induces me to see my higher self more clearly as the physical, mental and emotional toxins release from my body. 

Every time I enter the sacred temazcal I feel as though I go in a dirty towel getting dipped in water and then wrung out.  I enter so that I may become emptier of negativity and old belief systems that no longer serve me to make room to learn new truths and save space for more love and joy throughout my mind, body and spirit. 

In this type of belief system we honor the earth.  We ask the earth for wisdom and pray for her healing.  We are able to see more clearly that the damage that is done to her is done to ourselves.  The damage we do to each other is harm done to ourselves.  We learn to be more conscious of ourselves and of our actions through the lodge. 

I leave you with a beautiful poem and apologies to my family for disappearing.  I’ll tell you where I’m going next time.  I promise.  J
 

Thursday, July 19, 2012

Freedom Prayer


Feel the itch to
Shed some old skin
Live in the transformation
Let the Serpent back in
Watch as it coils around you
Until you can’t breathe

Your bones begin to crack
While your gender, age, height, race…
Those defining characteristics
Begin to deconstruct as your body condenses
Wrapped in the coils tight
The Serpent then begs the question
Of your identity
Before swallowing you whole

You’d be surprised just how seductive
That kiss of death could be
It strikes at you quickly
Without warning
Leaving you forever changed
The old you was far too safe
Too boring
Death comes in to set you free

Pray.

I am not my body
I am not my past
I am not my religion
I am not my sex
I am not my eyes
I am not my university
I am not my career
I am not my family
I am not even my poetry

If you could only remember
Death sits behind your left shoulder
What’s worth fighting for?
What’s left to cling to?
Comes a time
That you just can’t carry it around anymore

I pray to the Crows
Scavengers of the sky
I offer my body
If only to free my soul
Open my pumping heart
Satisfy their thirst
I am but my Father’s daughter
Came into this world with no possessions
This is all I have to offer

Tired of clinging to a false sense of autonomy
Freedom is the unhinged and unsecured
A floating leaf; subject to God’s will
The Wind’s doing
I’d lay naked before Her

This is how I pray

Lay bare enticing the Serpents, Crows
And Wind to come to me
I smoke the tobacco for all my relations
The animals too

Om

Aho

Hallelujah

And if I could strip down
Be delivered an empty vessel
For Spirit to live through
I would

Surrender completely
And watch how the Serpent saves you
A transmutation of DNA
An evolution of grandiose proportions
Don’t let the fear of death hold you back

For self preservation means nothing
Compared to this final sacrifice
I will never be anything more;
Anything less;
Than this.

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

The Yoga Project: Calming the Monkey Mind


I was going strong having done yoga for 13 days straight but I was going crazy.  I hadn’t been able to see my boyfriend or friends for more than a week (and I live alone – so when I say going crazy, I mean it literally – all work and no play make Jen Jen cray cray).  I was getting home at 10 each night and leaving by 7:30 a.m.  I felt exhausted.

It dawned on me that the point of yoga isn’t to drain your vitality but rather to replenish it.  In conclusion, I’m planning on doing yoga as much as I can without burning out or losing the point of this exercise which was to integrate more yoga in my life and develop a regular practice.  That being said, I’m planning on practicing at least five times a week or so.

Now that the technicalities are out of the way, let’s get to what it’s been like on the mat for the past couple of weeks. 

I’m learning and relearning so many things like what it is to really breathe or how to sit up straight to remembering promises I made to myself as a child that are no longer useful to me.  Engaging in a yoga practice so aggressively (bet you never thought you’d hear yoga and aggressive in the same sentence, huh?) is no joke.  There are days where I just can’t get with it – the teacher says left and I go right, my downward dog looks like a pathetic panting puppy and I’m not feeling so zen towards my instructor. 

Then there are other days where practice seems to flow so gracefully.  I do a pose I’ve never been able to do before.  My breathing stays consistent with my movement and shivasana (corpse pose) feels as though I’ve entered into a magical realm between dreamscapes and reality while conscious.

Last night, I would not allow myself to enjoy my yoga class for whatever reason.  I was having a really off night.  During these off nights I feel as though I learn the most about myself and my old thought processes and patterns.  For instance, you decide you’re good at hip openers but bad at core work so you avoid the core work and at some point you realize that you are deciding it all and not allowing yourself to be open to the experience.  Instead of opening up, you then become your mother’s voice in your head telling yourself that everything you do sucks and that of course you’ll never get into the poses that the tiny girls right next to you get into and of course you’ll never be strong enough to sink that knee fully into Warrior pose then you REMEMBER.  You remember that you’re in control, and that you love yourself and your body and are thankful it can take your knees halfway in warrior and that you can get into that one bind that you couldn’t do last week. 

Yoga reminds me of Aztec danza – for every step to the right there is a step to the left and they call themselves warriors, not because they participate in bloodshed, but because they battle themselves in the danza.  I often feel as though I am battling my mind on the mat and I wonder: which half will win tonight?  The overly critical dark half that leaves me wounded and crying or the compassionate light half that allows me to feel the joy within my body and accepts me always as I am.

More to come on my yoga journey.

Namaste