Posted in ashtanga yoga on 03/13/2008 12:44 pm by karen
Scotty returned to the one yesterday. Went to sleep. Is out there in the universe. There are so many euphemisms, but it all feels pretty awful, no matter how I try to think about it. Mostly I feel freaked out that he’s out in the bardo and might feel lonely or scared.
My Gift drove down from college Wednesday night, and he purred as soon as he saw her. He’d been hiding for a couple of days, but with her back in her room, he went and slept on her bed with her. But he went back to hiding once she got up.
Scotty and his brother Donut joined My Gift and me 15 years ago. My cat of 16 years, Jack, had just died. My Gift was 5 at the time. Her first word was “Jack,” and she learned to walk by chasing the poor cat around the house. So when he died, I knew she needed to have new cat friends. As did I. My brother was getting progressively worse with AIDs, and I was looking after him. My first marriage was falling apart.
So Scott and Donut helped me and My Gift get through some really rough times. Donut’s been gone for three years, and now Scotty. Sad. Those two did a lot more for us than we did for them, that’s for sure.
***
Practice has gone on through Scotty’s illness and death. It is very strange to practice with the huge hole of grief in your heart. But it puts you back on earth. Back in your body. Even though it is very weird to stay in your body when someone else is leaving theirs. I remember this being an enormous dilemma when my brother was dying. He was bowing out of the body thing, and the eating thing, and the time thing.
I remember having this huge pull when my brother died — time was going on without him, and it felt like time was dragging me further and further from him.
***
The Cop and I are still having our moments, though. He is a devoted underpants practitioner and very proud of it.
Last night, I mentioned that his practice is looking more fluid.
“I am ready for my teacher certificate now.”
I laughed.
“No, seriously. I am ready to pass on what I have learned.”
“I’ll make you a certificate with a Sharpie on notebook paper.”
“Make it on the computer so it looks nice. I will open my own studio and put it on the wall. Make sure it’s signed by Pattabhi Jois.”
“Okay.”
“Actually, make it ‘P. Tabhi.’ Like P. Diddy. That’s what I like to call him.”
***
Scotty playing with my shoelace in the sun.
