I don’t like being upside down and backwards. This makes Handstand a challenge for me. I don’t trust that my fellow students can hold me steady while I substitute my hands for feet. It’s a reflection of my own limited thinking, not an accurate assessment of their competence.
Still, I try. I go to class and work gradually. First, I achieved Headstand, which I couldn’t do a year ago. It’s a stepping-stone to the loftier goal of Handstand.
Yoga is always putting new challenges in our paths. Just when we think we have achieved a difficult asana, we discover that it was the modified version. It taught me to give up hope.
There is an old Hindu spiritual teaching called “The Snake and the Rope.” As the tale goes, a man walks into a dark room and sees something coiled on the floor. In a gut reaction he mistakes a coiled rope to be a coiled snake. When he collects his frantic energy enough to turn on the lights and the darkness vanishes, what is illuminated is the true nature of the object. This analogy for mistaken identities and meanings is as applicable on your yoga mat as it is in your life.
by Tania Kazi
There comes a time in life when the old ways begin to peel and shed away.
This happens when you start to notice one too many undesirable patterns recurring in your life. You vow to change things, but the patterns keep reemerging with renewed force. The wise thing to do, one hears, is to step back, take a deep breath and reaffirm your intent to break away from the pattern. To stop doing that which repeatedly gives birth to an environment that accentuates the gray and uncertain hues of life in the core of your existence. This is where courage comes in. Lots of it.
As a parent and grandparent, I was very hesitant to watch Rabbit Hole because I knew that it focused on parents who were dealing with the death of their child. After much encouragement from my wife, Lauren, and one of our community members (Mark), and with the tragedy in Tucson in the background, we watched the film last night and were absolutely mesmerized.
Gandhi says that an impotent man is far more dangerous than a violent man. The more that I spend time in this body and in this world, I am starting to get a sense of what he may have been saying. It takes energy to move from fear to love. It takes momentum and courage to change from selfish to selfless. A violent man can re-direct his energy, whereas an impotent man or woman has no energy to re-direct. My mom and dad always told us to mind our own business, but Gandhi says that if you see an act of violence on the street and simply walk on by, that is not non-violence, it is cowardice.