Soul Restoration at Sunrise

Not long ago, a simple trip to the beach to perform yoga asanas at sunrise proved to be both a cleansing experience as well as a sacred one. This came about as a result of my search for peace and spiritual well-being during the turmoil of transition. After mentally succumbing to the emotional and physical fatigue of a rapid succession of life changing events, I had lost all optimism that spirituality had ever instilled within me. Familiar faces were leaving my life and settings were changing, and I was convinced that I was alone. I felt vulnerable to the ills of life and overwhelmed with choices, and that if there was a connection to a universal Source, that I had permanently lost alignment with it.

People who knew me and took an interest in my strong spiritual convictions were surprised to hear me speak with such pessimism. Most could remember that my spiritual training began at an early age and, as I grew, I evolved into an eager student of spirituality. My upbringing was one of conventional spiritual practices that always included Sunday school and church each week. As a child, I can recall hours of fidgeting on the hard wooden pews during church sermons as my schoolyard friends romped and tussled in the nearby parks. Even so, I had no animosity toward this practice because, early on, I'd felt something blissful about the act of prayer.

In my mid-teens, my eldest sister exposed me to the practice of yoga, which nurtured the individuality of my spirit and sparked personal growth. It wasn't long before I was reaping the physical benefits of the practice as my body grew in flexibility and muscle tone. Soon to follow were those serene, blissful moments of aligning with spirit to experience the true essence of life, Divinity. I fully embraced a daily relationship with the inner Source of my good through the practice of Hatha yoga before and after school and work.

As the years went by, I developed a ritual with my yoga practice. Each morning I would rise at 5:15, roll out my yoga mat, and experience the rejuvenating and blissful rewards of elongating yoga postures and deep breathing exercises complete with candles and incense. This ritual became an open door to my own spiritual essence, my connection to the power of Divinity within me. The process of elongating my body, lubricating my joints, and drawing in deep waves of breath was revitalizing and kept me grounded in spirit as well as helped me tap into my creative nature. I was truly an optimist who dove into sun salutations and gratitude meditations at every open opportunity, whether in the solitude of my apartment or in my office during lunch hours. It was a regular habit for me to take time to rejuvenate, revitalize my spirit, work on the ability to avoid judgment, and see Divinity in all. My elation grew leaps and bounds as I learned to blissfully relax into the asanas through the coordination of deep diaphragmic breathing, movement, and heightened awareness in the present moment.

As time went on, I began to experience many profound changes in my life that tested my spiritual steadfastness and my ability to cope with change. In February 1999, I sat stunned at my mother's hospital bedside after she'd just taken her last breath before me. Not many years before that, I lost my father to cancer. Two months after my mother's passing, my wife of five years informed me that she felt that she was a loner and wished to divorce me so that she could be out on her own. My siblings were quarreling over material possessions that my mother left behind. Acquaintances that helped me grow were relocating, and one close friend had even passed away unexpectedly.

I became consumed in the reality that my advisor, my friend, my confidant – my mother – was no longer with me. As far as my home life was concerned, I was coming to grips with the fact that I would no longer turn the key in the door and hear my four-year-old son running to jump into my arms. The silence in my apartment, the stillness in my mother's house, and the distance between my friends overwhelmed me. My yoga practice became less frequent as I immersed myself in the day-to-day responsibilities of life and became completely alienated from the spiritual ritual that had been the root of my equilibrium. My musing on the disappearance of the comfort of familiarity and of being thrust into an unknown future quickly gave me a feeling of aloneness.

I was sinking and decided to seek help. I joined a spiritual community who served as a support system; however, not even their optimism in spiritual truth could comfort me nor convince me that I was not alone in this world. I was constantly being told that I was never alone. That my own spirituality would be the healer to my many wounds and that God existed within me and was expressed through me. I heard these things so many times that they became clichés. I responded by describing this feeling of being a tiny grain of sand that had been swept away from the security of a large stone by an enormous, turbulent ocean. The violent tide shifted it through worlds of darkness, vulnerability, and uncertainty. I was fearful of the future, of being out in a world of so many choices.

One morning, as I was preparing for work, I noticed my yoga mat in the corner of my apartment. It was as if I was gazing down at an old, faithful friend who had been carelessly discarded. Looking at it, I decided that I would return to yoga the next morning in an attempt to regain some energy, for I had been feeling listless the entire month. The next morning, I began rolling out the yoga mat and found some peace in the sounds of the birds singing outside my window. It was 5:00 in the morning and still very dark outside.

At the time, I associated my apartment with the energy of my pending divorce and it was difficult for me to be there. I had grown accustomed to staying out late at a bookstore and coffeehouse, only coming back in when it was time to cook dinner and go to bed. Even the few minutes that I was contemplating yoga, the silence of the apartment was making me nauseous with the grief of missing my son. My mind focused on this place where the walls, which once reverberated with my son's laughter as we caroused with one another, were stark silent. Along the shelves sat the idle stuffed animals and action figures that he and I played with on the floor for hours.

Noticing a smooth, yet rather cool, breeze blowing through the screen, I decided to leave that energy and go outside. I lived only blocks away from the beach and decided to go there to experience the peaceful sounds of the lake. I biked through the streets of Chicago to the narrow concrete walkway that led to the beach, and, after securing my bike, I walked toward the lake. The pre-dawn air was brisk and cold against my skin, and I thought of going back home, but I simply could not return to the apartment to be consumed with thoughts of my child and all the other people that were no longer in my life.

I walked on with the wind engulfing me with every step. Aside from the gentle rustling sounds of the lake, the darkness and cold air made it a gloomy setting. I had hoped to feel rejuvenated at the beach, however, the dusky, purplish sky and cold winds only augmented the hollow feeling inside. I reached a concrete path overlooking the lake and unrolled the yoga mat. Tentatively, I began performing the postures, still preoccupied with the dreary purple skies and eerie whisper of the wind through the trees. Inhaling deeply, I stood in mountain pose and, with eyes closed, attempted to detach myself from the dreariness surrounding me. Placing my palm on the cold yoga mat, I extended my right arm to the sky in triangle pose, and it wasn't long before my body began to relax from coordinating deep inhalations with the stretch.

I began to focus on my body, which also helped block out the sounds of the haunting wind. Reaching, stretching, breathing, I felt a glow of peace and serenity growing within. With my eyes still gently closed, I began to release thoughts of unrest by mentally absorbing the sounds of the beach around me. I immediately found solace from the sounds of the seagulls and the rustling of the waves just yards away. As frequent thoughts of my mother and my son came to mind, I immediately focused on parts of my body that the postures addressed. I began to use my breathing as a metaphor to release, upon exhaling, all forms of thought that I knew caused feelings of discernment. Diving down, arms spread into sun salutations, I filled my lungs with the cool breeze from the lake and, on the exhalation, visualized feelings of aloneness leaving every pore of my being. I sank deep into Vibranasana (Warrior Pose) and felt my thigh muscles constrict, and, as before, I could feel strength developing in my lower body as well as my spirit.

As I continued to stretch, a gradual warmth enveloped me. As I stopped to remove my long sleeves, I opened my eyes to the metamorphosis occurring before me. The deep purplish sky was fading to a warm, velvety pastel lavender, which in turn slowly blossomed into a tapestry of bright red, orange, and the most brilliant gold. My skin, once cold and clammy, was blanketed in the warmth of the rising sun. Hues of golden essence shimmered off the sand crystals, glistened off the waves of the lake, and gently shadowed the driftwood and stones. Encased in a gentle, almost caressing breeze, I resumed my sun salutations, stretching to the heavens, inhaling the invigorating lake breeze, and basking in the rejuvenating energy of the sun.

I began to feel a rush of energy surge throughout my entire being. I no longer experienced the cold of the pre-dawn air nor the eeriness of the dusky sky and the haunting sounds of the wind whipping through the trees. I no longer felt alone because, as I took in the exquisite rising of the sun, I felt as if I were truly witnessing the face of God looking back at me, bringing me back to vitality. The abundance of choices that I feared, I was beginning to see as opportunities. The faces that had left my life, I let go of them out of all the love in my heart. I knew in my heart that my ending marriage became opportunities for both my ex-wife and I to move on and be happier people. And I also knew that my love for my son would only flourish and I would become an even more attentive father.

As the intensity of the sun grew, I could feel tiny droplets of water misting in from the rustling lake to cool my skin. I recognized the truth that there was no separation between myself and the grace of nature unfolding before me on the beach of Chicago. In the blanket of golden light, the jubilance of the seagulls, there was a knowingness that that same light resided within me as spirit form. Not only was I witnessing the face of God before me, it was also a reflection of me, my God-self, my true essence outside of my rapidly changing surroundings. With that very thought, I was able to release the worldly concerns, the feelings of aloneness, and allow that truth to lift me up, sustain me, and strengthen me as yoga practice had always done for me.

Since that day, I cannot say that difficult times did not arise. Although there were plenty, they diminished in importance, in comparison to the healing truth of Light that came from returning to a spiritual practice of yoga and meditation as the window to my origin of pure spirit form. After much contemplation of the difficulties that I had experienced, I attributed my initial melancholy to my inability to cope with change. Granted, some of these changes were life-altering and required deep inner work in shifting consciousness to allow spirit to take over the situations. My perspective of this now is that such life-changing events are actually opportunities to allow our spirits to grow and expand beyond our comfort zones. Without growth, there would be no life. Recovering from the loss of my parents, missing my only child after divorce, relocating friends, were all not-so-subtle signals that it was time for me to grow, to move on to the next phase of my journey.

After my experience at the beach, growth began to come my way. I lost the rigidity and resistance to changing events around me and, instead, smiled upon them all as avenues to expand my consciousness, be a better father to my son, and practice kindness to others. My window to this truth just happened to be my yoga meditation and practice. Through that experience, I learned that when I encounter situations that could possibly send me into worlds of confusion, that is the time that I should walk through the door of spirituality that is open and available to me at all times.