Yoga is not my favorite form of spiritual union. Despite a lack of flexibility, I manage to complete a modified version of this ancient spiritual practice in my Brooklyn backyard almost every evening. I’ve had a few classes in Yoga. I know enough to commune in bliss.
I stretch in a prayerful way, despite what my neighbors above in higher apartments may think of me. It feels so good to unfold a 40 year old body that is now the same weight it was in 1984– 175 lbs. I’m five-eleven and skinny again, thanks to yoga, exercise, and a proper diet with almost no carbohydrates. It has taken seven years for my soul to loosen from the horrendous grips of forced, phycho-tropic medication and involuntary incarceration at Trinitas Hospital. I am so thankful that my body feels wonderful and alive again. Even Yoga stretching has become bliss.
Meditation is best during evening hours, after rush-hour traffic on the streets has slowed and only an occasional gun burst disrupts the steadiness of the hood.
My garden is in full bloom. The yard is secluded from the rest of Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn, thanks to brick buildings that surround it on all sides, offering a barrier of sorts to possible burglars and rapists. The cats are outside with me. I thank God and stretch to the sky. JFK Airport is nearby. The planes fly over me making a terrible roar as I pray. To relive my anger, I focus on the planes.
Reading is wonderful outside, in the garden next to tomatoes that are ripening. I haven’t been writing as much– not that I don’t have anything to say, it’s just that people tire of me.
Teresa of Avila– a Catholic Nun inspires me as I stretch and read, stretch and read. Teresa boasts openly of hearing voices– how terrible it was for her when church fathers told her that the voices she was hearing were that of the devil. According to her autobiography, Teresa levitated during her soul’s spiritual union with God. She describes emotions I too have felt, in such a state with God. Teresa explains how one can determine if a voice that one hears in a ‘psychotic’ way is either from God or from the Devil– according to Teresa, when one hears the voice of God there is no doubt in regards to its origin. One just knows. I agree.