Thoughtful Thursday

photo source here

In yoga, one of the components of our practise is something called a mudra. This encompasses a positioning of the hands and/or fingers. Each variety of mudra is rife with symbolism and purpose.

One of my favorites, the Lotus Mudra (read more here) has the yogi shaping their hands like the petals of a lotus flower. This mudra 'belongs to the heart chakra' and helps us to be aware of keeping our heart pure and unconditional , as 'love, goodwill, affection and communication reside together in there.'

I especially like it, as I feel its openness is a conduit for both receiving all the good energy which will surround one in a yoga class and for offering up any prana (life energy) back to the class. Because, as we practise individually, we are still just one part of a singular living, breathing being.

Today's TT comes to you via me via one of my brother-in-laws. A fellow, who, I can assure you is cringing right alongside Duke #1 at all of the hippy dippy voodoo bullshit that I just touched upon above.

Like most of my out-laws, my BIL is a mystery wrapped up in an enigma, with a pocket full of happiness and medicinal lint.

During one of our oh-so-witty repartees back and forth on facebook, in reaction to something I said, he said he was Aghast.

That's funny, said I.

I thought you were Agnostic.

He then informed me that he is now Acrostic.

I must say (yes, I really must) - this is quite puzzling.

An-n-n-yways...

Despite his religious and crytological leanings, he sent along this lovely piece of enlightenment specifically targetted to the JewBu population, but equally applicable to all. It immediately resonated with me purely because of the reference to the flower:

Deep inside you are ten thousand flowers
Each flower blossoms ten thousand times
Each blossom has ten thousand petals
You might want to see a specialist.

Namaste. Go in peace.

Right to the internist.

Thoughtful Thursday

One of my favorite yoga poses is Warrior II. It looks like this:

When you've really sunk down into it, and are feeling grounded in your feet, and your thighs are strong yet quiet, and your arms are in perfect alignment so they really feel floaty yet powerful, and you are surveying all you can see beyond your front middle finger, well. There is no greater feeling.

At that moment in time, you are the most kick-assing-est person on the planet.

In yoga pants.

Yeah, well - it's all about putting things in perspective.

Kind of like when the Baron gifted me a month-long membership to a hot new yoga studio for my birthday. Now this is one of those 'now', 'happening' places, where the age demographic is wa-a-ay below mine. But, I think they must have some kind of Affirmative Action plan in place in the event that old farts like me somehow stumble upon their doorway during our usual daily aluminum-fuelled random wanderings.

I must admit that I was a little perturbed by being led by a young lady not much older than my son.

Here's where the perspective thing comes into play, though. I embraced the Namaste and just let it go. And I'm so glad I did, because this lovely woman is a whoosh of fresh air in the staleness of life.

One evening, during our final relaxation pose, she read us a musing from Paolo Coelho's "Warrior of the Light"; my further investigation into this wonderful gem brings us todays TT:

"The Warrior of the Light sometimes behaves like water, flowing around the obstacles he encounters.

Occasionally, resistance might mean destruction, and so he adapts to the circumstances. He accepts, without complaint, that the stones in his path hinder his way through the mountains.

Therein lies the strength of water: It cannot be touched by a hammer or ripped to shreds by a knife. The strongest sword in the world cannot scar its surface.

The river adapts itself to whatever route proves possible, but the river never forgets its one objective: the sea. So fragile at its source, it gradually gathers the strength of the other rivers it encounters.

And, after a certain point, its power is absolute."

So, as I sit waiting, impatiently, for an appointment with the guy at the place about the thing, I will embrace my inner Warrior of the Light.

And just flow.

Flow.

Listen Up, Yogi...

... Give the people what they want.

And by "people", here I mean the Baroness. I'm pretty sure that I am not alone, though, when I humbly ask for less of this:


And less of this:


And more of this:

Ahh. All I need is a fleece blankie, a flaxseed-stuffed neckroll, and some sort of chant CD, and I am go-o-o-o-o-d to g-zzzzzzzzzzzz.

Rethink your class. It's wholesome and granola-crunchy and all, but it could be so much better. And quieter. I swear to Vishnu, call it "Yoga Naps", and the people will flock to it with such enthusiasm, it will rattle your chacras. Not to mention line your pockets for that new Ashram you've been looking at...

And a fine namaste to you, sir.