Skip to main content

The Extraordinary in the Ordinary

 

Some words simply beg you to study them.  Look at the word "extraordinary."   Most words relate in some way to their roots, prefixes, suffixes - their parts.   But "extraordinary?"  We think of extraordinary as reflecting that which is remarkable, exceptional, noteworthy, singular, rare.   Yet the parts of the word invite the opposite:  extra-ordinary.   Which to me sounds as if we're looking for things which are exceptionally ordinary... extremely commonplace... notably unexceptional.   

The English language strikes again.   Defying logic.  Boggling the mind.  

Just to be difficult, can we study the parts of the word "extra-ordinary" and still find the extraordinary?   (I know, I know, I'm confusing even myself.)   What if we could find a way to perceive the extremely commonplace as being that which is noteworthy and remarkable?

Marigold Wellington said:

“I live to enjoy life by the littlest things, feeling the grass between my toes, breathing fresh air, watching the wind sway the trees, enjoying the company of loved ones, a deep conversation, getting lost in a good book, going for a walk in nature, watching my kids grow up. Just the feeling itself of being alive, the absolute amazing fact that we are here right now, breathing, thinking, doing.”

Marigold saw the extraordinary in the ordinary.

Can we slow down enough to be swept away in rapture at the sight of a blade of grass or by the clouds drifting overhead?

In The Radiance Sutras, Lorin Roche writes that the yogic property of "Ghata" speaks to being intensely occupied or busy with something. Roche explains that there is a certain whimsical or childlike and playful property involved when we practice Ghata. We can consider something that is commonplace, like a pitcher, and imagine that "the pitcher even remembers the earth it was formed from and knows a thing or two about transformation."   Roche writes, "When we look at the world in this way, it is as if we receive a transmission of secret knowledge from each little object in the world."

It strikes me that we can learn to experience the ordinary as extraordinary.   

Doesn't that make life magical?  Can we allow ourselves to fall in love with a leaf, feel our heart sing as we watch a bird take flight, or become mesmerized by watching a baby breathing?  What would our lives be like if we practiced Ghata?   What if we could experience the ordinary as extraordinary?

Please leave a comment, share, and follow my blog to get notifications of new posts.   To follow this blog, click on the three lines in the upper right of the home screen, or click here.  

I also invite you to visit my YouTube Channel and subscribe. 



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

How to Put Together a Yoga Sequence

  Whether you are a home yoga practitioner or a yoga teacher, you are likely to find ways to put together the yoga asana into a flow or a sequence that begins with centering and grounding, builds in intensity or challenge (or progresses in some way) before slowing down at the end.   As a home practitioner, that was never a problem for me, because I simply put together movements that felt good to me at the moment.   Sometimes I'd forget what I did on one side by the time I got to the other side, but what did that matter?   I was moving (or being still) with my breath, and that was my practice.   That is yoga. In 2019, I completed the 200-hour yoga teacher training, and began teaching.  There began my challenge.   Now I was not only putting together a sequence of movements to share with and teach to others, I was expected to offer some kind of intelligent design.   Foundational poses should build up to more challenging ...

Equanimity

This article really is about equanimity.   As you start reading it, it doesn't seem as if that's the case at all.  But it is.  If you're impatient, this is not the article for you.  Reading this little article requires a certain amount of equanimity.   The inspiration for this article is trivial.    I have a small sewing box.  On the top shelf are rods into which the spools of thread rest.   And in the drawer underneath I keep needles, straight pins, safety pins, snaps, elastic, thimbles, and various other sewing-related necessities.   Please realize:   I am not one who sews.    Oh, I'll sew on a button now and then.   Or if my grandchildren's stuffed animals start losing stuffing, I can do emergency repairs.   But I don't sew.   My mother and grandmother both sewed, and my mother gave me the little sewing box as a gift decades ago.   Despite my disappointmen...

Moving with Grace

  If I allow myself to move with grace, does that mean that I slow myself down?   Do I sacrifice strength?  If I feel filled with ease does it mean that I am not being effective?   Or efficient? The dictionary states that grace is "simple elegance or refinement of movement."   But what if I feel clumsy?  What if I AM clumsy? I think that the secret to moving with grace has a great deal to do with our sense of ease.  Of course, dancers and athletes express grace in movement because they've practiced to build strength, capacity, flexibility, and muscle memory.   What about the rest of us? When we move with ease we can begin to tap into grace.  We can start small.  Grace resides within each of us. Sit comfortably and softly close your eyes.   Notice your breathing - the inhale, the exhale.   Notice the gentle rise and fall of the belly - the lift and release of the chest.  As thoughts arise, noti...