I can just see Manorama in my mind talking about Brahmananda's stick that he carried around. Why does it seem like I am always on one end of the stick? The highs and lows are finally starting to get to me...maybe this is the time start a sitting practice. After the Annie Pace experience of feeling so aligned with the tradition of yoga, experiencing the energy exchange that happens between student and teacher the stick swung and smacked me square in the solar plexus...I have been stumbling ever since.
My new yoga friend and cohort Aja wrote a blog entry about me you can read it here:
She writes, "not only searching for her yogic community, but actively creating it."
Let me tell you this is hard work.
Over the past few months I have been to the yoga classes of the leaders in this community. I have attended a class where the teacher proudly announced to "forget the Yoga Sutra's, forget the Gita!" I have never felt so alone. So I drive and drive. I have driven to the ends of the state to meet and practice the other teachers and students, and just today I drove an hour to practice with a small group in Milton, Mass....for the first time on a Sunday leaving the Hope State.
I have so much hope for a community! Please come and practice the yoga of sound with me at Shri (the seed of light) in Pawtucket. Start to dive into the Sanskrit alphabet as it relates to yoga..a state where nothing is missing...a state of wholeness and hope.
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune--without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.