I feel that a disclaimer is in order. If you're the type of person who feels awkward showing emotions and asking for what you want, this month's Jivamukti Yoga classes will feel particularly uncomfortable for you. If that's the case, take more classes. Better that the issues come out during yoga asana practice than outside.
"Admit something. Everyone you see, you say to them: Love Me. Of course, you do not do this out loud, otherwise someone would call the cops. Still, though, think about this, this great pull in us to connect. Why not become the one with a full moon in each eye that is always saying in that sweet moon language what every other eye in the world is dying to hear?" These are the words of the Sufi poet Hafiz.
"Love me" is such a bold declaration, a demand we are afraid to make, and yet many of our actions are motivated by the need for love. My teacher Sharon Gannon has an interesting observation. She said many people tend to believe- falsely believe- that there are only predators and preys. If we operate with this mindset, we become fearful. We avoid eye contact. We avoid connecting to others. We fear that others may hurt us, and we may hurt them first because we think it is better to hurt than be hurt. This is no way to live.
We can be inspired by the moon to become this whole complete person unafraid to love and be loved. In yoga asana, poses like chandrasana or moon pose can remind us of what it means to be whole. It does not mean we have to be perfect. It merely means we have to be true. When we come into this pose, can we practice acceptance and compassion and let go of criticism and judgment? If we can do it even only for a pose, then we are already one step closer to letting go of our predator-prey myth.
We can practice natarajasana, dancer's pose, which is also inspired by the moon deity, facing a mirror. Look straight into your own eyes, and see the subtle nuances that your eyes want to tell you that language finds insufficient. See yourself as a whole. You may struggle in the pose, you may fall out, you may shake, but regardless of what is happening to your physical body, can you start to accept yourself as you are?
"Love me" is a risky plea. Once we put it out there in the world, it could be accepted or rejected, and that makes us vulnerable. But a deeper insight is: How do we feel about this acceptance or rejection? Do we feel that we need to somehow earn this love? Do we genuinely believe in our own worthiness?
"Love me" is something we can boldly say, with no fear and no attachment, when we have accepted our own wholeness. We can allow others to love us when we realize that we love ourselves, not because we can perfect an asana, not because of what we look like or what our jobs are or how much money we have in the bank, but because it is our birthright.
"Love me". Our obsession of who loves us, and whom we love, and who loves whom start to fade away when we realize our true nature. We are worthy. We are courage. We are compassion. We are love itself.