“Yoga is experienced in that mind which has ceased to identify itself with its vacillating waves of perception.”
–M. Stiles
I love to frequent garage sales–to see pieces of peoples’ lives
overlapping front lawns and driveways. It would be a perfect form of
non-attachment, expect for the price tags. This morning, I scored a wood
framed mirror, in perfect condition, for a grand total of three dollars.
It fit perfectly in our entryway– reflecting splices of our front door, a
storage cabinet, corner of a couch and seemed to complete the room. As I
was securing it to wall, I began to notice something remarkable. As my
reflection passed in and out of view, I became aware of how the image in
the mirror shifted according to where I stood. At times, it echoed
silhouettes of furniture and books, mixed with particles of sunlit dust
floating in the air. And if I moved to the opposite side of the room–I
could see only the mirror itself–it’s thickness, the discolored splinters
of striated wood, smooth edging and silver colored glass. Even the
subtlest movement caused a shift in visible perception. I thought about
all of times I had looked into a mirror, so fixated on the details of my
reflection, that I failed to notice the mirror itself. Even worse, I
began to consider how many times a day I repeat the very same thing–
attaching myself to fluctuations of thoughts, judgments, opinions and
whims ( all fleeting reflections), completely missing the present moment
unfolding before my eyes. Or, how many times I had mistaken the mirror
itself for the parade of images dancing upon the glass.
I’m pretty sure that Patanjali wasn’t looking at a mirror when he composed
the Yoga Sutras, but the metaphor seems fitting. The next time that I’m
on my mat–indulging in those chitta vrittis (fluctuations of the mind)–
I’m going to take a deep cleansing breath and conjure up the image of that
solid wood frame holding a clear piece of glass.
~ Megan Merchant, RYT 200
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