After talking with some friends of mine I feel better.

I practiced yoga regularly for a two years of my life, at the moment it was falling apart. I remember waking up in the morning and lying in bed wishing I didn’t have to move. The house was breaking, all the families secrets were airred. Within the same hour of waking, I walked into Ms Donovan’s class. Found my spot, unrolled the purple mat, laid down again, closed my eyes and listened to the wisdom she gave. Short anecdotes or quotes from yogic texts. The life of a lotus; growing up blind in the murky, muddy water to bloom, receive light and live its days and then turn dry and dark, like a rattle with some seeds still inside. The complete cycle. She talked about burning seeds and planting new ones, transformation. She told us about the way life is welcomed into the world by an African tribe; the community creates a song for the pregnant mother, it is unique to each, it is sung while in utero and the second the child leaves the womb, it is sung by those who care for the person in times of struggle and happiness and on their last days. I lied and listened and cried every single day of class. It was healing for me. Our focused intention however small, she assured us would bring consciousness and peace to the world. I could let go. I let go.