I see that yoga is a wonderful and terrible thing right now, because when you're on your mat, there is nowhere to hide. I have to face myself and my demons head on. There is nothing with which to cover up, there is nowhere to run. There is nothing to cut, nothing to vomit, and no burpees to do. There is just my body and my mat. I am forced to be aware of how much and how little space I am using, how much of it I am creating, and what I'm doing what I have. Whether I stand on one foot or two hands or a head or all fours, I am made to look myself not in the eyes but beyond, into the recesses of my brain. I have to listen to the beat of my heart and hear and feel and honor my breath. I find limits; I am compelled to acknowledge them and wait to see what will happen.
It is beautiful, and it can be terrifying. But this, of course, is practice, and even more so, life itself.
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