Fulfillment - Yoga to the Edge of Joy in Ojai

I woke with a start at two in the morning last night; my body was tingling and I was struck instantaneously, thunderbolt style, with the sweetest sensation of joy. I'd been dreaming of all the faces, the yogis floating around all over the place here at Ojai: Erich Schiffmann, who'd just given this risky, but expansive talk on making a mental reality shift; Ravi Ravindra, an icon for expansiveness himself, who signed his new book at Bhavantu the day after Pat Olchefski-Winston and I were there signing copies of Bear Speaks; and all the local yogis -Kira, Eric, Alana, Amy, Catherine - who modeled thoughtfulness with perfect grace. At one point they arrived early at the venue where we practiced and left sprigs of sage next to our yoga mats. Then there was the physical presence of the family of yogis I'm used to interacting with on-line, all swishing around the town on beams of light, smiling, hugging, revving up the the vibe of all of it.

The odd thing for me is, that up until that point, when I was struck by all of it in the middle of the night, I actually considered packing my car and heading home. I don't know why, but somehow the sheer ecstasy of what's happening here was intimidating to my ego; on some level I'd convinced myself, subconsciously that I couldn't possibly deserve such joy. On a conscious level I told myself I needed to get back to my family in LA. How indulgent to take four full days and practice like this! But every time I phoned or e-mailed home I got that everyone was okay back there; my husband was off watching sports and tasting wine with his brother, my daughter was singing in a show and spending the night with her best friend, even the folks at the school where I teach reported that everything was fine in the classroom with the plans I'd left for the substitute. I had no obvious excuse to leave.

So I stayed, and woke to that blast of joy energy in the middle of the night. Only then did I realize my ego, based as it is in fear, can really get in the way, that it can make me want what's inappropriate, even harmful to me, because that lightening bolt - to steal a phrase from my teacher - feels pretty intimidating to the ego right before it strikes. So the ego lays trap after trap to deflect the joy it fears. The joy is so strong when it hits we're afraid of short circuiting from it.

Fortunately once we start flirting with joy the way we are at Ojai, we don't short circuit. Instead our passion expands to encompass all of what's happening, and if we can stay balanced there, it's fun.

So I caught myself vibrating with the sheer joy of it all at two a.m. Just out of curiosity I flipped on the television - I wondered what would be on at that hour. Here's what I saw: beautiful women advertising a zumba dance class, an evangelist speaking eloquently about the law of abundance; and then this eclectic KCET black and white cartoon where a poor soul with a number, concentration camp style, tattooed on his forehead heads up this ladder following a sign pointing to "Heaven." When he gets near the top, he sprouts wings and takes off, the numbers on his head fading as he flies. I switched channels one more time to view this series of home videos showing cute toddlers exploring their world, grabbing vegetables, and splashing about in a wading pool.

The joy is expansive indeed. I have a feeling it won't be too hard to remember that today - the last day of the yoga crib, the day we all finally drive home.