The Power of Intention and Grace

I stepped on the path, asked to be aligned and placed my feet directly in the current. I felt invigorated and challenged. I felt awe at the power of it all.

This morning I am vibrating with a particular quality of grace descending into the depths of my beingness. I have no wish to speak or even to hear the usual mundane chatter. I crave instead the rich depths of nourishment so long fermenting within my soul, within the earth, within the natural world that surrounds me.

I walked toward the water. I would destroy the futile attempts of a local beaver to build a sturdy home where he will be thwarted by the members of a skeet club, who have the right of way to this road on my land. There is a culvert under a bridge. The beavers see this as a great opportunity and every year this struggle ensues. I have been told that when the beavers get too difficult to dissuade they have sometimes even shot them.

So, I walk toward this funny undertaking with a heart that is heavy and full and content to do what I can to play the game that says "I love you" in my own peculiar way. On the path I begin to chant to the lineage of grace that is behind so much of what I love in this world. I reach toward the ecstatic being: Nityananda and offer my actions in service to divine bliss. I think of the Bhaghavad Gita I offer them without attachment only knowing that this is my way of stepping into the current right now.

And then I climb down quite literally toward the current. I am awestruck by the power of moving water and by the amazing tenacity of the beaver who must have used incredible muscular energy to draw this weave of branches, which he cut and carried in his own teeth. I laugh and delight in how hard it is to pull the branches out. I even feel a rush of fear now and then because the current is so high after the rain. I don't know how strongly it will pull me into it and I can't see the bottom clearly as I reach my hand into the mysterious mix of branches holding steadily together, fortified by the current itself.

I am nevertheless triumphant, here and there finding a branch that I can pull free until finally everything I can reach has floated down and through to the other side. I expect he will put most of it, perhaps even more back for me to find again in the morning. When I can I will re-engage in this activity. We hope he will be dissuaded and build a beautiful den somewhere else.

As I walk back I see how well this illustrates our yoga. I offer myself into the current of grace. I smell myself in South America. My hands close in front of my heart. I am willing. My heart is ready to step more fully into the currents of grace. I feel gratitude and walk tenderly, carefully. I am mindful of the rare quality of shakti that I am steeped in this afternoon. I think of Nityananda of how he spent his time swollen with grace, beaming with it. His very presence was like a beacon for so many. I want to step in, to do my part and like Durga I love the creatures. So, I hope I will be able to protect them, nurture them, spill grace over into their lives as well.