“Before I built a wall I’d ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out
And to whom I was like to give offense
Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,
That wants it down.”
I read this excerpt from Robert Frost’s Mending Wall, and it got me to thinking about my own relationship with walls, emotional ones as well as physical ones. They make me feel hemmed in.
In every house I’ve owned I’ve had my husband tear down walls to create more open spaces. Not just interior walls, but I also have him open up exterior walls and add huge windows to capture the views and let my spirit run free. Thankfully my husband knows a good bit about construction and is a very patient man who doesn’t mind catering to my crazy whims.
My yoga room is nearly all glass. The are no walls, just floor to ceiling windows, and doors of full length glass panels. And since I live high on a hill with no neighbors, I have all around views of my gardens and natural landscapes while I practice yoga.
I am often graced with a glimpse of a fox or a deer meandering by, or a red tail hawk soaring past my vision in the sky. My favorite friend is a little chipmunk who sits on top of a stonewall in my garden and watches me practice.
Sometimes when I am practicing asanas I catch him sitting up on his hind legs, looking like he is quietly watching. And on other days when I am meditating, all of a sudden his chirping will seep into my consciousness. He can chirp non stop. Once, during meditation, I counted his chirps up to 350, then he must have found something more interesting to do.
The absence of walls allows me to expand, commune and become one with nature. The earth and the sky become an intimate part of my yoga practice. And I find inner peace in outer landscapes.