Making the Case for Corpse Pose

It’s been about a week since the turning of the year (Gregorian) and the full moon in Cancer, and for some reason this moon energy really impacted me in a big way. Cancer is the caregiver, the one who is devoted to the concept of home and nurturing all within that container. For me, the sign of Cancer lands in my house of career, which really should be no surprise to others - I simply LOVE nurturing others through education, coaching, creating sacred spaces for rest, reflection, and renewal - even cooking for people (goodness knows I love to feed others, LOL!)

My career has (generally) been aligned with this cosmic natal placement. I’ve spent the last 25 years or so in a teaching and coaching capacity within the health & wellness space. Taking care of others is clearly my jam, but there’s a shadowy dark side of this astrological placement too, such as over-caring, over-giving, and codependency (which I know nothing about, sarcastically speaking).

Well, I had a free and open weekend over the full moon, so I gifted myself a much longer yoga session and savasana. I’ve often shared with students that corpse pose is one of the most important poses in the practice - it teaches us how to be still, to be receptive, how to slow down and offer ourselves the gift of “death”. It’s an important opportunity to let fall away or “die” those false beliefs and concepts that limit us from being our beautiful, Divine selves.

The irony is that when I practice yoga in my own home, I usually skip savasana. I just go straight into meditation.

This doesn’t seem like anything worth mentioning, except that on this day, I chose to lay in savasana for a good while and was profoundly reminded of the medicine of this pose.

I remembered:

  • I deserve to create sacred space for myself - to rest, reflect, and renew.

  • how it feels to surrender completely and truly be held by the earth, and by the Divine.

  • I can’t outrun my emotions, and by slowing down and stopping, I can bear witness to them more fully. Let the tears come, let them cleanse and wash me anew.

  • it’s okay to grieve - those who have transitioned and how much I miss them, the changes in my body as I age, the change and uncertainty within my career and work, the sorrows of the world. I am not meant to hold it all.

  • that I am so fully and completely loved and adored.

I was laying on the floor in this pose for all of 20 - 30 minutes at the most and yet it felt like being held in the arms of angelic eternity and bliss for hours. Why in the world am I not doing this on a regular (daily!) basis?

I convince myself that I don’t have time, or that it’s really not necessary. I mean, I do meditate daily, so that can be a good substitute, right? Well, after all these wonderful reminders, I don’t think so.

Meditation is mind training; it is cultivating inner focus and is our opportunity to merge with the Divine. All good and necessary things for our continued spiritual growth but let me be clear - it is not deep rest. Not in the way that savasana teaches us to let everything go - physically and emotionally - so we truly embody the essence of who/what we really are. To let go of all the striving, pushing, efforting, and point our boat downstream and with the flow again (to quote the wonderful Abraham Hicks).

I received the opportunity to deeply listen and all I heard was, “Let go and let yourself be held.”

And that’s when the tears arose in me like a great tidal wave (typical for a Cancer full moon, by the way - this sign is very emotional, intuitive, and though it loves the full moon, it can heighten our deep, watery feelings).

Things are changing all around me, some are exciting, some are sad, and some are just stressful in their mysterious uncertainty. Many of us are feeling that heaviness, perhaps, when we get caught up with the never-ending chaos of the world.

That’s precisely when we need to practice savasana.

Let yourself be held completely. Listen deeply.

Let God/Source/Spirit take care of things for awhile.

Rest is radical transformation - Divine, sacred, healing.

It is the only way to live.

Anji Antkowiak