My First Mala...
This is my first mala. Second, really. My first mala was pre-tied and I picked it up in a yoga studio when it jumped out at me. But shortly thereafter, I had an opportunity to learn how to tie my own from my sweet friend and teacher, Sarita. A Nepalese Vedic astrologer, Sarita owns a rather inconspicuous shop in Denver, Colorado. Step into her space though and there will probably be a line of yogis and seekers alike waiting their turn to meet Sarita and have her read their chart.
I love this mala. The elements of it were selected by my teacher based on my birth chart. I also love it because it shows just how much I've learned as I've tied mala after mala after mala. But that's not what I love most.
This is what a mala looks like when you are brave enough to walk away from a toxic marriage, babe in arms. This is what a mala looks like when you're strong enough to sweat your way through hundreds of hot, shaky, tearful yoga classes. This is what a mala looks like when you're ready to embrace your own wisdom, leave behind outdated thought patterns and even say goodbye to people you thought could be trusted. This is what a mala looks like when you dedicate each day to self-healing. This is what a mala looks like when you're ferociously clawing your way out of a chrysalis, standing, finally, with wings outstretched, drying in the light of the sun that illuminates everything.
This mala will never be for sale. This mala is a force to be reckoned with. This mala is fire and earth, air, space and water. It's drenched in sweat and tears, joy and grief. Loss and rebirth.
Your first mala might not look exactly like my 1000th mala. Your first mala, like mine, might have more space in between the stones and knots than you'd like. Your first mala might be a little wonky. It might not be the colors you would have selected for yourself. Your first mala might make you face your perfectionism, your lack of compassion for yourself, your fear of failure, your carefully sequestered rage... Your first mala might ask you to be brutally honest with yourself before you feel ready. Your first mala might make you wonder what took you so long to get to this place.
I'm so glad I saved this mala. I'm so glad I never "fixed" it. I'm so glad it's wonky. I'm so glad it's full of gaps and strange, out of place knots. I'm so glad it's filthy. It's mine. It's me. It's an extension of my healing process. It's a time machine. It's tangible healing.