Prana play yields lots of insight

My new favorite thing: standing in tadasana, playing with my prana. Ha! sounds a wee-bit filthy. I first did it this way a while back in Kira's class. A few 1/2 sun salutations to get the ju-ju going. A yummy chest opening with my hands reeeeeaching out to the sides and awayyyy from each other. Then gently, gently bringing them back towards each other in the tiniest of increments, playing with the energy "like taffy." In my minds eye it resembles a spiders web; seemingly delicate and diaphanous, but strong in its own right, and so present. I gently tug. It gently tugs back. I realize at this moment what I feel is a gentle bonding; literally and figuratively. And although I relish the experience, most times I practice this there's a feeling of disbelief. As if I don't really want to believe what it is. It's so tangible, it almost scares me. Hmmm, it actually that makes a lot of sense when I think about it. Especially today. 

I don't often go there these days, but today I felt an enormous desire to binge and barf (I hate the expression binge and purge. It's so someone else's words). I fought the impulse and allowed myself some time to practice. There was a tug-of-war going on because I really wanted to do both. So I reasoned, "If you still want to act up after some yoga, then you have permission."

A lot of the time, this kind of negotiation doesn't work. The impulse overrides. But not today. After a surprisingly enjoyable and fairly energetic practice, I didn't wanna act up. I still don't. Although I didn't totally dissect the depths of my stirred-up-ness, and why I wanted so badly to barf, I just noticed that I wasn't compelled to. Not right now. 

I realize that in some ways, it's that bonding, that connection that scares me. The connection to my pain? Perhaps. The connection to my power? Could be. Connection to something bigger? Probably. A connection to the quiet, soft, benevolent Care that happens when I allow myself to simply be? Yeah. 

I rode my bike down to the beach afterwards. It was 6:45 and I wanted to ride towards the sunset. As I peddled, I had a thought. "That wasn't exercise. It was food. This isn't exercise either." After all this time,  I'm still shaken to the core when that kind of truth comes in and rests.