Delivered

Yoga does some weird stuff to my brain as well as to my body.

During relaxation tonight, on completion of the session, I lay on my mat and had the strangest sense of blowing a tiny bubble, like the kind you make from washing up liquid. It stayed close to my lips, as if attached, while I breathed and emptied my mind. I had the distinct feeling of the bubble growing larger, windows of the room reflected in pastels on its elastic surface until, with one last effortless puff, I entered the bubble, suspended in its own atmosphere, no gravity, like floating or flying. I was a tiny person inside this bubble. Me looking in at me. Very strange but incredibly soothing and peaceful. As awareness was brought back to the room I was gently delivered from the bubble which just vanished.

It sounds very ‘new-age’ or as if I was on something. But I’m too practical to be an old hippy and I wasn’t ‘on’ anything.

It was a pretty amazing place to be.

I felt wobbly after my delivery but the sense of it is still with me.

I wrote this as soon as I arrived home.

Barely parted pout to puff a tiny silent bubble shimmering invisibly so microscopic in its non-appearance just a touch of pink and palest blues reflected windows on its stretching skin slow expanding with each exhalation larger growing still attached at source as breaths fill deeper and begin the sinking into centre of a universe unseen elastic in its welcoming invitation to a deeper breath sufficient to expel the self into the globe now grown resumed the womb umbilically connected by a barely parted pout and puffs expanding to accomodate I’m inside out no pressure from lost gravity awaiting with each further in and out for bubble to returm my breath upon the rest and in completion then deliver me

 

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