Forget about navel-gazing. Let’s face it, unless your zafu is in front of a full-length mirror and you are skinny as a rake, who can actually peer into that little enclave of lint and jam?
(It’s a bit like doing the ‘Headless’ experiments: What head? … What navel?)
But sitting here this morning, languidly lazy, with both legs stretched out and in full view, I marveled at my toes.
Perhaps they felt flattered, for as I gazed, Big Toe on left foot bent forwards towards me as though bowing, and Next Toe flattened itself back and away from Big Toe as though allowing it more space.
I watched, amazed. My toes were performing a dance totally independent of their assumed owner and resident choreographer!
It’s commonly called ‘cramp’.
I watched my toes. I felt the weird sensation without applying the ‘pain’ label. I marveled at the autonomy that paid no heed to my command to relax. I thought, “Today, toes. Another day, heart.”
Yet there was no morbidity in that thought, for marvel outshines morbidity every time.
And the Awareness that awares it all – the watching, feeling, marveling and thinking – outshines everything.
Memo to self: If slipping into delusions of control, watch toes.
~ miriam louisa
Painting – Yoga Toes by Wendy Gendanken