Asana Meditation: Savasana (Corpse Pose)

How can we ever prepare for death? The sands of time continue falling at the same pace, whispering their secrets as they go. The world does not cease its machinery with the simple knowledge of one man's impending death. Death is as much a miracle as birth -- with the extinguishing of a flame, his final breath will whisper one more secret, yet unbeknownst to the universe. We are given nine months to "expect" for birth, and generally allow ourselves the luxury of celebration. We allow ourselves the luxury of trepidation. We allow ourselves the luxury of preparation. And in death? What of these things?

I felt the familiar sense of grief and sadness begin to swell. It was a rising tide, threatening to consume me. I felt it most in my feet, the ache of this day's work pulling me down further and further. I simply wanted to collapse. And so I let myself fall. Unrolling the yoga mat, I said in my mind, "I really need this corpse pose." And with that thought, in my dirty work jeans and dusty tee shirt, I lay my weary body to rest. Thoughts of Alan's looming death cradled me immediately into the flat, gentle ground that reassuringly pressed itself against me.

When I was regularly practicing yoga, Savasana was always reserved for the final asana. It not only served as a restful measure, but acted as a deeply purifying and nourishing gift to self. During these moments of silent stillness, my mind would drift off and I inevitably always entered a state of complete forgiveness. With my guilt-ridden mind quieted by the nurturing comfort of momentary death (induced by the magic of Savasana), what is there left to blame? When all is still, like the slowest moving molecules of the densest solid material at absolute zero, then there are no more of my fingers pointing at me, because all the fingers have fused with the earth below me. My body has formed tiny hair-like roots that have anchored all the neurotic trauma-caused self-harm (himsa) and neutralized them into non-existence. In these brief few minutes spent like a corpse, I am bathed in the universe's unbounded capacity for care, forgiveness and compassion. In the face of death, what do I find but an outpouring of genuine love.

Namaskar.