f you’d asked me a year ago about
yoga and my goals in practice, I would have talked about improvement.
Hanging lower in forward bends, gaining strength everywhere,
developing some kind of physical grace, and reversing the slumpiness
I sense in my 48-year-old body.
Although those goals haven’t changed,
and although there has been progress in all of these areas, my practice
is about something else these days.
The living room floor is more a meeting
place, today, than anything else. During practice, my body and I
meet, yoga and I meet, my busy head and I meet, my energy level and I
meet. More and more, my heart and I meet.
And whatever happens, happens.
This isn’t indifference or
resignation. I’ve just stopped making demands. Stopped pushing so
much. The result is that my practice has become more like a
conversation than a military parade (hup, two, three, four, hup, two,
This reminds me of my kids. At some
point late in the parenting game, I stopped managing them and began
having real conversations. And, oh, all of a sudden, without the
pushing, I began to see them for who they are. And they’re
I feel as though I’m beginning to see
yoga, rather than pushing my way through my likes and dislikes,
through my attempts to manage myself in practice. The change is
Do you know what I’m talking about?
(Are you picking up what I’m putting down, the kids and I used to
say to each other) Is practice a meeting ground for you? A pushing place? A climbing place? A love fest?
Thanks to Kali and Adrian, the best
teachers ever. Thanks to yoga for being another excellent teacher,
and thanks to you for the conversation,