My heart broke into far too many pieces to count. My apathy swelled. My sorrow stole my voice. And, still, I prayed.
These past five years I've prayed for bravery.
The practice of Ashtanga Yoga healed the dark part at the back of my heart. It purified my voice. And, it brought the richness of courage to my doorstep, asking only that I keep praying, until bravery became it's own resignation: no other choice to make, because there is more work to be done, and I want to do is work more.

A riff on urdhva kukutasana a-- with a focus on sutra 3.32-- By samyama on the kurma nadi (a subtle tortoise-shaped tube located below the throat), motionlessness in the meditative posture is achieved.

Plugging into the source. You aren't promised fun (it is), no one said it would be easy (it isn't), but I swear it's worth it (it is).

Attracting pigeons.

SAMASTHITHI

There are so many ways to observe samasthithi. Today, I took yoga straps and strapped them to a tree. Keeping the back flat and the stomach engaged, I worked my pulling muscles with out losing the feeling of a constellated center line. @davidgarriguesyoga would like those terms, i think. They sound like him.
My coach would call these rows. I might call it samasthithi research. Regardless, these moments of turning inward and reflecting soberly on the here and now are valuable. It is certainly not the method... but it also very much is.

Charlie and me doing what we do.

Ordinary afternoon. Intermediate series. Firefly, and her many stages of life.

The seasons are changing.
I'm allowing myself to feel the change-- right down to wearing long sleeves. I'm also trying not to get too wrapped up in it. SwamiJ says that witnessing = observation + non attachment ; Rolf says "easy come, easy go."