Sweetly Human: Ashram Life

By now I know that my meditation practice requires movement of some sort, asana or a walk and the stability of a morning ritual. The hour that I lay my head down and my morning routine seems to determine how long I sit and how deep I go. I prefer to sit in the morning, forget about trying to sit in the evening. It rarely works for me. I can’t seem to sit and focus with a full stomach or a full mind. So today I did not meditate. Today I have nothing to write about except perhaps about those sweetly human nuggets of life that are beautiful, cozy and simple.

Last night I stayed up a bit late watching stand up comedians on Netflix, giggling, snacking on popcorn, sipping warm milk with saffron and honey and every so often I gazed out my window as the sliver of a crescent moon drifted through the shadows of the tall pines. Mesmerized by the mysterious darkness of the waning moon.

A late-night, and a late start to my day. A morning that yearned for the freedom of not giving a fuck. I rolled over and hit snooze, ignoring my alarm, grateful for no place to be. I pulled the blanket over my head and returned to Netflix on my phone and giggled some more. When I rose, I didn’t make my bed, I didn’t lay down for breath practice, I didn’t change out of my pajamas or head to breakfast. I did, however, have warm lemon water with more lovely honey. I draw the line at lazy, slow, rebellious bowels. No, I did not meditate today. I have nothing enlightening to write about except that I had a sweetly, lazy and decadently human day.

Photographs owned by Leora Sanchez 2019