poetry. thoughts and more than make-believe.

Wednesday, February 01, 2012


Finally, I did the slowest ever yoga flow in my memory, but I actually was able to move this morning.
It's been weeks since my back  decided to separate from the rest of my body.
I finally listened.
I didn't do any vigorous movement.
I taught without doing many poses, which I see as a helpful teaching blessing, but that meant
And I'm still limited, but this morning--I moved.

AHHHH...I thought I was going to cry.
All I could think of is--imagine not being able to move.
Imagine the floor was a scary place to be.
I can't.
And as I felt my body unwind...there I was again.
In my heart.
In my movement.

My yoga is more than asana, but the gentle energy brought about this morning from it,
is inspiring on this sunny, warm February morning.

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