I think colors are so beautiful, I’m learning they mean so much… at least to me. Every color has a certain power, igniting certain feelings within. It’s amazing what sun light can do, everything thrives from it–I think it’s the yellow. Bits of yellow seem to be popping up everywhere today, like the flowers on the table at this coffee shop in Chicago where I sit, and the color I see when I close my eye lids. Maybe it’s a reminder that the future indeed is bright.
I’ve been thinking about the color indigo a lot lately, its kind of been the color of the week, or maybe even this whole season. On street signs, in conversation, the theme of a recently visited art exhibit, or the letters just constantly whirring around in my head, it’s only in this change of scenery that it starts to fade.
The Indigo Chakra is the second highest Chakra to open and achieve, it’s what gives us total balance, where we see perfection in all things in our life, giving us total peace. That’s my New Years resolution, total peace in my life, which means peace in the lives of those around me, and on and on and on.
But it starts with myself and seeing the bigger picture. I choose to focus on seven Chakras within me, like the seven colors of the rainbow. My spine is a central channel of energy, a red root Chakra is at the bottom, a violet crown at the top, 5 others in between. They represent my true human needs, the whole mind, body, and spirit as one constant flow of energy up and down the channel, a well oiled machine. The greater the flow, the greater fulfillment of this one life I have for myself. It’s only in my own true fulfillment that I can fit most comfortably in this world, making everything in existence more comfortable, I hope.
Yoga is about unity with all energy, within ourselves and also the external world; everything is connected, everything is dependent.
I left Champaign on New Years, bound for Effingham to revisit my family’s home, although it now sits empty. My old neighborhood finds itself nestled in a small, secluded woodlands area on the outskirts of town. The houses are sprinkled amidst trees and valleys and hills, and a shimmering river glitters the perimeter as it flows, separating our neighborhood from vast acres of farmlands and pastures. I have spent years walking these lands, yet never knowing what lay beyond this barn that usually turns me back towards my home, an arbitrary boundary set over the course of the years.
This time listening to the woods calling, and seeing the indigo sky, I hopped the fence and began following in the foot prints of the animals that frequent the land. I continued aimlessly into the countryside, not knowing where the indentations in the snow were leading me. After a good while of pushing my way through thorny brush, hopping another barbed wire fence, and trudging through ice and snow, I stumbled upon a vision that was so beautiful, and reminiscent of my time in Montana, it almost brought me to tears. I missed that feeling.
I couldn’t take my eyes off the peaceful movement of the water, wondering how this could have been in my backyard all of these years without me ever knowing. I stood there and watched the secret life of this part of the world, witnessing sheets of ice melting, and giving in to the pull of the flowing water. I couldn’t help but wonder what this one moment in time meant for everything else that will happen for the rest of time. It’s all meant to be, all these going ons, even the ones we don’t know about.
I returned to the river a few days later, on my last day in town before traveling to Chicago for some days, this time taking my camera in hopes of capturing my awe. I was wondering as I walked if this hidden natural wonder had ever been photographed before; it’s very likely I am the only one. But I guess that is probably true for all pictures, since every moment is different, and can really only be captured once in it’s solitary essence.
Shine on indigo children.