So today marked the formal completion of my month-long yoga teacher training, and I have the faint suspicion that the significance of the event will only sink in maybe two weeks from now at a most inauspicious time—like when I’m driving in the middle of EDSA traffic.
Now, I knew when all this began that it would happen ridiculously fast (something I already mentioned in a previous blog post On the Virtues of Simplicity)—but I still failed to anticipate the actual velocity of events. So much happened in so little time—and so much of it occurred below the level of my conscious awareness. My mind feels like a lake that had an entire city thrown in and sunk to its depths, and every so often, a random item will float to the surface and spark a glint of recognition. It shocks me, sometimes, to find myself saying the Sanskrit names of yoga poses so easily, or humming Vedic hymns on detachment so unconsciously, or identifying the movements of a joint so offhandedly. Just four weeks ago, all of these were utterly foreign to me. And now they occur without the intervention of thought.
And for someone who relies excessively on their ability to think, that kind of spontaneous cognition (for lack of a better word) can be, frankly speaking, rather disconcerting.
And—it’s also kind of cool.