Taste the Dirt of Yoga

Anger, sadness, ego and suffering crowd the gates to self-knowledge. These states are the self appointed sentinels, the stubborn guards who won't let you pass through without strenuous opposition.

They will fight, question, interrogate, and oppose you. But with the whip and the wit of OM at your side, with the help of your chosen breath weapon, you will defeat these foes one by one. You will freely enter through the gates to the science of profound repose. This place of rest is your home. Here, consciousness becomes prasad...food that is blessed and fit to partake of.

While others seem to be riding the wild bull of Yoga, I only seem to be getting constantly bucked off. My only defense is that I keep getting back on no matter how many times I am thrown off. I yoke myself to the discipline of this greatest art. I strive to master this finest of technologies. This is the only thing I've ever really wanted even though I've made a mess of it all. But there's still a little time left. Time enough for another ride. Time enough to know the sensation of bowing to the secret one as I fall off and taste the dirt of the ground again.

Yes, the road behind me is strewn with my failures and as painful as all these mistakes were, and are, at least I can say I took on my darkness. I challenged my small thinking. I forged beyond the limits that were seemingly cemented into my make-up. I did not cower when courage was needed.  

Now I seek to surrender to the Great Source. May I find rest in bowing and giving thanks. GIVING. GIVING. GIVING. I seek work, humility, and the skill to drop unwholesome wanting. I direct my efforts towards knowing the secret hidden source who dwells within my very own body.