An Observation: "Don't look at me."

My Mum always says I'm the most beautiful girl in the world. THE most beautiful girl. I can hear her now, "ohh I'm so lucky to have such a beautiful baby." She now says the same thing to our dog! And don't all good Mum's say the same thing?

But I reckon I have some old samskara business with how I look. In fact, I definitely do. To the people that know me well and the people who are most likely to glance at my blog, I'm sure this won't come as such a huge shock. Let me tell you what happened.

Yesterday was one of THE most peaceful, tranquil, lovely, just blissful practices ever. Like, the whole room was at peace, so shanti. Of course, this was just my perception... and also, the perception of a couple of other shala ladies actually. So, why then did I have all this stuff about my appearance invading my head at some point around closing? And then, uh-oh suddenly my eyes were FILLING with tears in my glorious savasana. I was overcome with emotion.

"Don't look at me."

I can hear me say it.

Don't look at me, that's what I'd say. Don't look at me, is what I'd wanted. Don't look at me, don't judge me, don't undress me with your eyes. Just let me BE. Leave me alone. That's what I was screaming, hoping, praying, hiding for back then when I said it.

Now, even now, on the tube, in a lift, on the street, I hide. I put my eyes down. I bite my lip. I'm uncomfortable. To a lover, I think, if you see my flesh you won't want me. To you, I'm not enough. I'm not beautiful enough. Never.

If I'm beautiful, I'll feel loved. Then I'll push your love away, reject it and want to disappear again.

Wow, yoga can be so powerful. I think this shit was just passing through me. And the emotion it conjured washed over me like a wave. Now, i'll take a towel and dry myself off. I need some sun.

Observe. Let go. Alter.