Dear God,

It's me.  Are you there?

I'd pray when I was younger when there were things that felt completely out of my control.

A dog please.

Friends please.

Not to get caught please.

And yet, perhaps praying to God is a way of controlling the situation.  If I ask God, then clearly I have delegated a task to someone/thing who can get things done.  I've tossed a statement into a jar and sent it out to sea.  I have written a letter to Santa for presents and they better be the right ones otherwise I'll be stuck with a bunch of crap I don't want...

Asking God for stuff is making a choice that something is what I want.  At the time (back in the day) I'm sure I was talking to God the dude in the sky with the beard and I was this super-powerful earth goddess that totally connected with him.  I could talk to animals too.  Obviously.

I don't really pray like that anymore.  I think about God, but it is less like God my Big Brother and more like God the world is an amazing place.  I think about people and now and happiness and sadness and suffering and blessings.  I think about all this stuff crashing into each other in the middle of an intersection and that explosion in the center is God.  I think.

But today was different.  I had these intense internal moments during practice where I was there but then also sort of consciously decided to day dream that actually I was floating up to the sky and in Mukta Hasta Sirsasana C on a surf board zipping through the clouds.  And then I was thinking about blue bursts of light shooting up my guts and spine the color of blue 1980's dance/aerobics video lighting.  And then I was up in space flying around.  I just took my mind to this crazy place and giggled inside that no one in the room could have imagined that I was thinking about this stuff.

And it was also God.  It started with "God, I think that maybe today is the day that this crazy stuff is just going to snap my body in two".  And it turned into just "God".  God. God. God.  It gave me something to think about so I felt like I was busy or something.

But then after class as I dodged last night's puke on the sidewalk and hopped over puddles of dog pee, I thought about praying (or whatever).  "Um, so, hey God (or whatever).  Here's where I am at.  Give me a sign or something.  Okay, thanks."

I think that is it.

Everything is God

This time I'm resting on my back and all I can think of is how amazing it is that I'm lying here. My friend told me that every day she wakes up and thanks God she is here doing this. I thought it was sweet but now I'm feeling it.

A while back before ashtanga I was in corpse pose at the end of a yoga class. I was lying there and feeling my bones touch the ground. I could feel my organs and my flesh and all I could think about was how this is decaying and before I know it I will be dead.

This time I'm thinking about life. How amazing it is to be lying here. My legs work my arms work. I am alive. And even the stupid crap that pisses me off is pretty amazing. Thinking about God or Goddess or universe or whatever makes you think about how much whatever is happening is so small so insignificant and at the same time, it is all that ever existed.

Sharath is amazing. Assisting someone in supta vajrasana is not easy. Usually you sit over their crossed legs and I always have a bit of a challenge applying the right amount of weight. Sharath walks over and places his toes on my shins and I drop back as he stands over me shouting and gesturing with his arms at people around the room. Something big, something small. Looking up he is a giant and I'm so small. It ended with "Bakasana".

In bakasana, you balance on your hands with your knees on the backs of your arms and your knees bent up toward your rear forming you into a little ball. In the second variation of the posture, you have to jump into this position.

So after I get bakasana I'm on my mat thinking about how amazing this is and thinking about God and all that feeling life is this incredible joyous experience. I walk outside. I sit on my bike. I forget how to stand. I fall over and the bike falls with me. The guy with the pushcart that sells oranges laughs. The woman cleaning the driveway of the salon gasps and takes her hands to her cheeks. I laugh and get up and wipe mud off my back. In the end I'm just this ridiculous clown and some falling is just what I needed.

Getting crazy with bakasana:
http://in.youtube.com/watch?v=abBwccUCFEU