This week I was in Big Sur with my husband celebrating 20 years of marriage. We rented a small rustic room in the redwoods and settled in, hoping for just a day or so of light rain. By Tuesday morning the electricity was gone and the storm was on us. We read aloud taking turns with my husbands camping headlight-he uses it to read in bed. That lamp took on a whole new meaning in this storm. We also had a small battery lamp—not so bright—not so long-lasting. By Tuesday evening there had already been 10 or so inches, soon to total 20. I am just setting the scene here. After the restaurant generator was put to bed around 9, there was no light anywhere- in any direction. Not a candle or a battery lamp to be seen. Although I have been camping in very remote places there has always been at least the glow of stars. Now it was inky black–loud rush of water in the creek below–rain on the tin roof–squeak and saw of swaying redwoods.
Although I have a well-developed imagination, I have never before had such a strong sense of what it must have been like before the crush of civilization and technology that we have inherited. It was then I had a profound sense of our yoga ancestors. Floating on an island in a redwood lake in the dark, I realized the deep empiricism of their yoga, like the knowledge of the stars before the Hubble or even a small telescope. I felt so fortunate to have access to their knowledge in this present world. How would we ever have the time or concentration or silence to see the universe in the way they did, in the way that allowed them to know that they needed to create a path to the oneness they so desired—in a way that included the whole body and the whole mind. If I had known the chant I have heard a few times to honor them, I would have struggled through it then. Instead I had a gratitude meditation, imagining a light-filled cord winding through time and through unending bodies. All of the teachers. All of the practitioners. In this unlikely time and place, and out of the true dark, I felt the power of what we have been given. Namaste dear yogis, we are all part of this enduring tradition.
