October 14, 2003
Namaste Noble Fitness Warriors!
�Love is a river. Drink from it.�
- Rumi
i have two brooms with which i perform my morning cleaning rituals. one broom is from India. she is handmade from grass, hemp, and bamboo. her svelte bristles are slender, wispy and extend from the handle like filaments of Shakti emerging from a long bamboo flute. as i sweep, these bristles soundlessly shush away used birdseed and leaves from my front porch.
my other broom is mass manufactured in America. his bristles are stout and tightly tethered. made of corn, a scratchy sound emits from the action of sweeping. i have to press hard while sweeping. often the birdseed scatters and corn bristles fracture.
if i�ve concentrated my mind well during my morning meditation and zen life seems close at hand, i sense in the details of my sweeping metaphors of my life. the American broom reflects normal American bodies; stiff and tightly wound. its performance hampered due to its tension, regardless of intent. my India broom seduces me into becoming skillful in my sweeping; i must remain alert if not impeccable in my sweeping. less, i find once again, is more.
when my Practice has been consistent and feels particularly ripe, my porch becomes my monastery. my sweeping becomes prayer. the sprinkles of birdseed symbolize the cascade of my random thoughts. my broom becomes an extension of my breath, erasing the clutter of mental and emotional debris. i understand better my life by understanding better how i choose to sweep.
it might just be me, but i truly feel those who hire others to clean their own homes, have not a h(om)e, but a house.
it might just be me, but i truly sense that those who disdain cleaning their houses not only have no h(om)e, but are dwindling their spiritual chances for Awakening.
sweeping is to me, a most cherished part of my personal fitness and growth.
Dharma blessings,
coach ilg, RYT
founder/Wholistic Fitness Personal Training