It’s been a little over three years now since I returned to a daily yoga practice. And I’ve only recently realized how radically my practice has changed. 26 minutes on the mat, 6 minutes on the cushion. 32 minutes a day, imperfectly in the moments.
While the (almost) daily effort has been intentional, this change hasn’t been. I wouldn’t have been able to direct myself toward this experience. Nor would it have been possible for anyone else to direct me. It’s the result of a synthesis of all that is changing, in all that I experience. It is deeply personal, and oddly impersonal.
Yesterday someone wrote on an Instagram post that she’d been criticized for not taking yoga seriously enough. She didn’t elaborate, and I’ve been trying to figure out what it means to not take something “seriously enough” – because I am beginning to think that is the whole point: to fall into the habit of taking everything lightly.
I inhale like the tide pulling away
from the small pebbles on the shore,
and I exhale
like the flow of the tide
teaming with new constellations
of all that has been
and all that will be.
The stars appear
to be fixed in the darkness –
an illusion of distance
The world is a master
of the sleight of hand:
every moment a misdirection
every moment a seduction, and
the deliciousness of our oh-so-willing
dance – the suspension of doubt.
“Drama Queen” has taken on a new meaning for me lately. Like so many other judgments I’ve made about myself and about others – the tight, little frame is losing its integrity. I’m wondering it if isn’t in part due to the inundation of social media’s ridiculous stockade. We are the public at the zoo of our own design: gawking and pointing at human behavior, buttoning up our coats, clutching the frame of the baby stroller, peering into the glass enclosures, and offering up serious lessons in self-preservation.
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“It is deeply personal, and oddly impersonal.”
good companions seems to me.
is learning best nurtured in twos?
a here and a there, coincident, a before and an after,
a holy ghost? (spirit by another word)
what I feel,
it is the wave
it is the ocean
the sand taken from beneath my feet, balance
only matters in moments – like this – now.
the photograph for this post, of shadow men and trees, is as provocative as your text. how well they coincide.
“every moment a misdirection
every moment a seduction” so much meaning in only a moment observed.
your posts always interesting, but sometimes, simply radiant, seeing both rocks and path, sparkling to read. or in sum – gosh!
And your comments – likewise – og my gosh! Glad you liked the photo. I had originally picked something else and then remember this old one from Berlin.
Oh yes … ‘While the (almost) daily effort has been intentional, this change hasn’t been. I wouldn’t have been able to direct myself toward this experience. Nor would it have been possible for anyone else to direct me. It’s the result of a synthesis of all that is changing, in all that I experience.’
How perfectly did you capture what I know, and didn’t know, about myself.
I am about to launch myself into another life and, suddenly, I am conscious of wanting change myself. Such deep change. Or perhaps a coming together of all the shattered pieces I became on re-entering the world I left.
And thank you, as always … for the having the courage to be honest, to explore, and to share.
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