A lot of times I wonder why I do this. Why I practice. It’s tiring, it’s frustrating, it takes you to the edge of your patience. Yet I continue to do it. I continue to practice the primary series. I continue to do back bends no matter how deathly afraid I am of them. I continue to jump back and jump through in my chunky, struggling way. I continue to negotiate with my hamstrings and my lower back to cooperate in the poses. Why do I keep doing this to myself? I asked my husband one night. Why do we do anything? He asked in return.
This is always on my mind every time I step on my mat. And every time, I also ask myself, if I didn’t spend these 90 minutes practicing, what would I be doing instead? Puttering about on social media is the honest answer to that. Not exactly the best way to spend those 90 minutes, so might as well work on myself. The practice is incredibly humbling. It exposes your physical weaknesses first, and then the mental struggles. When I’m faced with a challenging pose (all of them, really), I’m always faced with the choice to stand up and walk away from my mat. Why bother? Why go through it? I could be lying down instead of working on catching my wrist in Marichasana D. But I choose not to. I choose to continue to breathe, and then I get through it in whatever capacity I can on that day, never mind if I catch my wrist or not. And I guess it reflects life off the mat a lot. When faced with a challenge at work, I panic and bitch about it for a few seconds, but eventually I catch my breath and start working on it. No way around but through it, is what they say. And it’s been the same, on and off the mat.
Practicing also restored a sense of wonder in me. Don’t get me wrong, majority of the time, it’s a struggle, but when I do have breakthroughs, when my teacher gives me the confidence to prove my fears wrong, there’s no other feeling like it. What’s even better is it’s from within me, not an external factor or thing, but because of something I did for myself, something I conquered in me. And while non-attachment is essential, I believe it’s those little bursts of joy and wonder that keep me going in an otherwise crazy world (my mind included).
Funny how the image of you immediately entered my mind. Not that you would ever admit to anything but innocence.
I will never know what truly happened – perhaps it’s better that way. Betrayal is not an easy emotion to let go of. It always makes its presence felt even when my thoughts are miles away from you. It knows how to get a good grip of me. Too good of a grip.
I was expecting it to be more painful. A gasping, shocking kind. But when you coldly made it known that you no longer wanted me in your life, there was just a dull ache right at the center of my chest. Like my mind had accepted it long before my heart realized what was going on.
Of course I have forgiven you, if there was even anything to forgive. Only you can answer that.
Five years down the road.
I still get caught off guard at how differently things turned out. In the rare instance that you do cross my mind, I am only left with curiosity as to what we would have become. Thankfully, I come up with nothing every time.
You are what your deep, driving desire is.
As your desire is, so is your will.
As your will is, so is your deed.
As your deed is, so is your destiny.
Timely advice. Not that I’m certain about where I’m going, but this makes me more determined to take chances.
Looking to the sky to save me.
When I saw the awesome video of Learn to Fly – Foo Fighters Rockin1000, I was reminded just how much I love this song. I’d always heard of how great the Foo Fighters are but never took the time to properly listen to them (a trend for me, it seems). When I heard this song, the lyrics and melody instantly got me hooked. The lyrics in particular resonated with me, similar to the feelings that emerge when I hear U2’s I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For. Clearly, my life has a theme but overlooking that point, Learn To Fly is an overall beautiful song that touches me each time I hear it.
Let your journey to strength be journey in humility. – Kino MacGregor
For the first time in a long time, I have found something that I could truly believe in, that makes life more meaningful and more whole. I have only been practicing for 4 months, my movements are still unrefined, though steadily improving. There are incredibly frustrating days during which I have to make myself take a step back and trust that things will unfold in time. More importantly, I can already feel subtle changes in my spirit. On my mat, I’ve experienced true stillness of the mind, one that I’ve never experienced anywhere, even during the countless times I am alone with nothing but my thoughts.
Oh, and my mom noticed an improvement in my posture – something she’s been trying to get me to work on since high school.
I know this is but one small step in a life long journey, but I have a feeling this will be one journey I won’t ever regret embarking on.
Manila, with its unreasonable enthusiasm for organized chaos, never ceases to amaze and appall me all at once. I’ve lived here for more than half my life and it somehow manages to continue moving towards disorganization. A quick downpour can transform the city into a murky, infectious waterpark. The most wonderful time of the year can turn the streets into a nightmare of stationary headlights and raucous honking. One can rely on the unreliability of public transport, both in system and technicalities.
Yet I continue to wonder why, despite the ugliness and seeming hopelessness of it all, I still unwillingly – curiously – miss it when I am away. Ah, the mystery.
An apt reminder. Sometimes we fool ourselves into thinking that if it truly is love, it is supposed to be easy. It’s not. It takes a tremendous amount of work, and while nobody is ever prepared for it, we take it on anyway and stumble and get back up and stumble over and over again. And that’s okay because love is all the good bits and the bad bits, the little heartbreaks and little triumphs in between that remind us that yes, we are human, but we are capable of loving and being loved in all our messy and glorious ways.