This morning I flowed through my usual (con) fusion yoga: some Dru Yoga, some Hatha, a bit of Ying and ended where I love to be: flat on my back staring at the ceiling. Once I was back in my body in the spare room I sat up and was confronted by me: there's a huge mirror in the room that I intend to cover with some suitably gorgeous spiritual cloth but for the moment there I am: all 62 years of me. Unwashed, sweating lightly after a good workout, in my pyjamas.  My yoga music was still playing, the meditative bit played softly on. I stared into my eyes, my legs crossed, elbows on my knees hand palms up and stared into my eyes. My eyes that have been considered one of my most beautiful attributes. So much so that an Egyptian offered Himself two camels to possess the blue eyes...

I found myself in a mirror meditation...I ignored the wrinkles, the loose neck skin. Ignored the eyebrows that need plucking. No judgement. Stared into the windows of my soul. No thoughts. Just staring.

 

mirror eyesAfter a long time my seeing eyes dropped from my seen eyes and looked at my hair. No judgement, no thoughts, just seeing the hair. Then the seeing eyes looked into the seen eyes. Looked without thought, without judgement. Looked at the hair. Back to the eyes. And the looking eyes smiled at the seen eyes. And smiled. And winked. The eyes laughed. The mouths laughed. My heart laughted

The day is good. Today I am good. I hope yours is too: look into your own eyes and smile:-).

 

Namasté.