yoga of suffering

When my world was much smaller, I wanted. Wanted certain small things, or things not so small, but in a small way was how I wanted them. And bigger was always there, at my left shoulder, like death always is. That ever present friend, or foe, or driver.

With lighter steps I now cross deeper rivers. With less effort I now carry heavier loads.

The load of my home, that dirty, rusty place of worn out ideas and faded dreams is still on my back.

And for my realization it has not become easier. But is has shifted. And that is all the difference I need at the moment.

I am driving narrow winding roads in heavy traffic. I am narrowly missing parked cars and oncoming motorcycles. And I am amazed at how my hands on the wheel and my foot on the pedal and my eyes on the surroundings and my mind remembering the directions all work together to flex my way moment by moment to arrive me at my destination.

Arising within me is a stillness that maybe was there all the time or maybe it has only come back from time away. The reason seems irrelevant. Just glad for the stillness.

I have been in the fire, have been wrestling demons, have been drowning in suffering, have been self-pitying and hating the self-pitying. But no running. I've been tempted. I have felt overwhelming needs to stop the work, to come out of the pose, to get on a plane back home, to get high, drunk. And there I am, fantasizing, and I grab hold of the thoughts, and drag them with me to the fight.

There is the body, bending into a helpless back bend. There are the shoulders screaming, there are the knees trying to escape. Here is the body stretching into a forward bend and the hamstrings yelp and the hips grip to their tightness. Up into hand stand and the arms cry out, the legs beg mercy in parsvakonasana. And here am I, all the time thinking "quiet" and "surrender".

Quiet.

Surrender.

There was once a girl with straight brown hair and sweet lips. Soft skin, gentle curves. And she lured me to a pink carpeted room in front of a yogi.

And my body began a prayer.

This body prays so much better than this mind.

I pray to you, my love. I bend myself quietly and surrender to you.

Surrender.

To.

You.