musings because i’m not made of stories

when i watch a person brace themselves for headstand, care is taken.
fingers weave together to form a basket, intended for the back of the neck. the crown of the head kisses the earth. elbows and forearms press, down. hips lift, up. expressions turn focused, sharp. toes inch toward the face. a moment of hesitation/anticipation erupts and…

the person hops his feet from the ground, landing the weight of his body right on fragile neck bones.

it leaves me wondering, why all the care to rush the process?

my friend sara, sharing a story, said, “we often teach the things we most need to hear.”

the reason i like inversions is because i directly feel my bodily connection to the earth, its magnetic field, and gravity. to fly, there is a needed trust in the ground. handstands and headstands flip my feet out from under me, show the sky where the ground should be. a new perception.

does love require temperance?

(or it is allowed to run wild? like an unsupervised child — in the parking lot at costco?)

questions keep coming
though the answers been given
holy heart — listen

speaking from the heart feels like massaging the heart.

osho doesn’t believe the heart feels anything but the pump and rush of bloodflow. such a hauntingly technical, highly beautiful notion.

i hear the song of our hearts too loudly to agree.

don’t underestimate the seeds you plant

when i discovered yoga i announced “THIS IS WHAT I WANT TO TEACH”.

at 20 i announced myself a yogi and future yoga teacher.

at 21 i abandoned my yoga practice.

at 23 i picked my self and my dreams up off the floor and pieced them back together to reread their blueprints.

at 24 i graduated yoga school.

never lose hope.

This entry was published on January 21, 2014 at 10:00 pm. It’s filed under creative conversation, free write, head trips, honest conversation, life, living, mind, photography, poetry, writing and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

2 thoughts on “musings because i’m not made of stories

  1. this picture is stunning, but the beauty of your words puts it to shame.

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