Amber played live music in Janet’s class this morning. I hadn’t seen either for months. It was good. It was a large class, maybe 100 people: Janet had been out of town.
As we went into Savasana, Amber announced they would walk around and offer “sound healing” over our hearts. “That would be nice”, I thought. “Place your hand on your belly if you really want to receive it, Amber said.
I placed my hand on my belly and the tears started pouring down my temples, out of the sudden fear that Amber would not come to me. Even though I humbly admitted that yes, I would really want to receive this offering, immaterial and ephemeral, what if I don’t.
We, you and I both, can dismiss this as ridiculous, immature, entitled. Here I am, extremely lucky and privileged, resting comfortably in the middle of it all, unable to bear a possibility of a minuscule neglect.
Either that, or being presented, in its pure form, with inability to ask for anything I want. It’s so much easier to offer, and to practice not expecting much in return than to ask and be bypassed, time and again.
Amber walked into the middle of the room and made their way slowly back toward the podium, offering the “healing”. They were a row or two behind me, when Janet started a chant to signal the end. I heard Amber walk by me and join Janet at the podium. They never got to me. It was a large class after all. I lay my hand back onto the floor, wept silently, and figured, enough of this asking for what I want experiment for now. Silver lining, I care less and less about crying in public.
After the class, downstairs, I saw a message from Anaïs saying I was welcome stop by her place sometime and pick up a gift she had for me. She reminded me of it when we saw each other before the class. I started typing in “when would be a good time?” but then replaced that with “thank you! it was good to see you today”. Somebody called my name. Amber. We said it was good to see each other. I congratulated them on a recent life event. Amber said thank you and asked how I was doing. “I’m well,” I said. All is well.