The Divine Miss N has been one of my yoga teachers and an integral part of my yogic journey for a very long time. She and I share, surprisingly, a lot in common, yet we are very different in all the bells and whistles. We are both introverts. We both have to deal with similar demons. We have studied with some of the same teachers, which enables us to help each other out when we try to explore the "more harder, more dangerous" asanas. In fact, she's dropped me on my head a few times in my early days of exploring dropback, but I keep going back for more. She's also one of the very few yogis that I've allowed into my home to practice. My filthy condo is my fucking sacred temple, ok?
And yes, she is much nicer than me. Bite me.
When shit hit the fan last week, The Divine Miss N and I had a long chat, which in part inspired me to start this blog that nobody reads.
Here's the deal, most introverts are thinkers... most, not all, some are just inadvertent idiots... and being an introvert doesn't mean being shy, we just stay in the back, lurk in the dark, keep our mouths shut, observe and conjure up shit in our heads.
So when two introverts, who have similar experiences in life and stuff, have a long conversation, you know it's bound to be some juicy shit.
This is also where it gets interesting. You see, The Divine Miss N is A) my teacher, B) as crude as it sounds, a service provider, C) my fellow yoga buddy, D) my friend.
Blurry boundaries? You betcha. I'll talk more about that in a different blog.
And to reflect on that certain current event, there are striking similarities, though thank Jeebus, none of that "sensual energy moving" ritual here.
No. No. No. Never have, never will. The yuck factor is just too high.
There are lines you simply do not cross. This is one of them... and women with tattoos and piercings are just not my thing. I'm too conservative and traditional that way. I like them pure, stupid and with enormous breasts (if she can see her feet while looking down, they are too small), but I digress...
The Divine Miss N talked about Kali and Lakshmi in her Thursday class, which was very refreshing and fitting.
There have been a lot of discussions about alignments, telling the truth, going back to the yoga mat, yadayadayada. These are all valid discussions, in fact very much needed. But I also see a lot of unaddressed anger and frankly demands of a public hanging.
Believe me, I am pissed like many of you. And if you've ever been publicly humiliated by "the man" in front of many in your local community, you'll know how I feel.
The raw primal anger is very much the manifestation of Kali, that raw power of destruction, that adrenaline rush to grab the pitchfork... I totally get that and I am still struggling with it. Repressed anger has always been one of my constant battles. But these last X years (not gonna hint at my age here, you dunt!) of yoga have also taught me to pause and take a breath.
Because of "the man", we are all engaged in amazing conversations.
It is very tempting to barge in, chop off heads and burn everything in
sight. You see, raw destruction ass-whooping energy will do just that, destroy
and whoop ass. There is definitely a place for that... I have wanted to
summon Kali at work many times. But when the bitch slapping and ass kicking is done, then what?
That is when Lakshmi comes in: refinement.
Shocking, you need both. Sorry Saraswati, I'll talk about you some other time. You are too normal and boring for this blog, and I'm too lazy to stick you in that picture.
To put it in perspective, imagine you are a doctor who needs to remove a benign growth on your patient's neck. You need that raw destructive power to remove it, at the same time, you need to incorporate refinement so that you don't cut off your patient's head.
While I'm writing this, I realize this blog is not as funny as I thought it would be. I partially blame it on the Tequila Caesar that I'm drinking. To the (non-existent) readers from the US, it's a primal drink of Tequila and Clamato juice in Canada. That's the *reconstituted* tomato juice with clam flavoured broth which you don't get in the US. Ha!
Tequila is the raw primal power. (totally!)
Clamato juice is the refinement... hmm... ok, this blog is funny after all.