The gentle overcomes the strong. I am looking at a river flow; a steady, slow, stream. There are heavy rocks anchored beneath the pulsing river. I lean forward to sense the depth and touch the movement of this moment. Up close, I see the rocks worn, clearly effected, transformed even– by the ambling unhurried dance
I once had a student refer to yin as “lazy” yoga. Then when I explained the difference between yin and restorative yoga he said, “Oh, so it’s even lazier than yin.” I have to admit, I laughed! My response was two words- intentional- commitment. I appreciate my student’s perspective. It invited me to think even
“There is a river near where I live. It meanders slowly, peacefully. It doesn’t ask itself why it isn’t an ocean, or a raging river, or some other thing. It just surrenders to what it is. Maybe we just need to surrender more to who we are. I think I will lie down tomorrow beside
There were people here. They walked this land before it was called “country” “united” “states” or any other such possessive thing. We sometimes remember them in feathers, magic, dreams, and flutes; they are so much more than that. We are all standing on their bones and shoulders. For the Indigenous of this land, I am
In my life, many things have kept me up at night. Lately, I stay awake long after the high moon to dream: To walk through the hallways of my vision To touch all of the images, ideas, and wild things there To feel what I’m creating from the raw cells of my heart/soul To taste
Chillshop™ was conceived while I lay in a hospital bed recovering from a vicious altercation with exhaustion because no other prescription could manage my urges to “do more” be more”, “get more”, and “prove more”. Of course that wasn’t the “official” diagnosis. The real one had a bunch more letters. But I knew.
We are continually becoming/being who we actually are. This is what I mean. I found an old ‘thumb’drive (remember those) and came across this passage I’d written from my yoga teacher training application back in 2007: “I want to cultivate the kind of centeredness and stillness that will allow me to move through
Asana is like a house protecting one from the heat of the sun. – Peg Mulqueen That’s all asana is – a house protecting you from pain, suffering, and from contrary forces. It’s like the supporting tortoise for those who are constantly devoted to the practice of yoga. Asana is not yoga. –David Garrigues From Conference