To attain Buddahood … we must scatter this life’s aims and objects to the wind.” – Jetsun Milarepa
Yesterday I shared the most painful part of my yoga journey so far. The moment when I discovered amidst the infinite enoughness in yoga, that I was not enough. Like waking to a long lost friend you no longer know, the sense of loss quickly overshadowed my disappointment.
Today I took some more time off yoga to clear my mind and my heart. To make room for the healing hands of father time I spent my morning in the sky – falling, laughing, soaring. Rekindling the love of skydiving I had set aside when I began yoga teacher training.
It felt good to let go. To play. To be. For my first jump back I treated myself to a solo jump – just me and the sky. The plane slowly fading away above me. I could watch the plane grow smaller and smaller above me for hours. Though I don’t, because at some point before I hit the ground I need to attend to saving my life.
In the vastness of the sky nothing matters. All my plans and accomplishments, disappointments and failures are just background noise against the vibrant present. The wind against my body, vista before my eyes and sky between my fingers.
This is what it must feel like, to let your plans scatter. To hold so loosely to the future that you allow the wonder of this present space to alight on your hand.
Perhaps to find life’s aim we must first scatter ours. Perhaps we focus too much on finding life’s aim, instead of letting it find us.