Slug

Dear Friends,
Thank you again for reading.
I took the time to go on a personal meditation retreat for a few days at the Sea to Sky Retreat Centre. Wonderful place.
In between the emptiness and the fullness of my mind I came up with a poem I want to share with you.



Slug.

Somewhere between cinnamon and turmeric.

Slugging at the pace of a puddle drying up.

Crossing many interesting paths, but sticking to your own with your personal adhesive.

Leaving slick traces of yourself behind, not even embarrassed about it, or trying to cover it up.

Feeling your way across cedar mulch and spirited green moss with your gelly belly.

Almost stepped on your dark brother, and back there your bodacious mother.

Noticed your talents in one leap over a lively green maple vine.

Steady

Sticky

Unshakable

Genius.




Some of you may wonder why Sarah and I post about things that may seem unrelated to the Yoga practice. We believe that Yoga can be a set of techniques to open up a pathway that brings us more into awareness of all of life. This pathway may be grown over at times. Yoga gives us the tools to clear out excess debris... but also the utensils to be kind to ourselves while we clean out the muck and the viscosity.

So Yoga encompasses each moment of life that we share. Each contemplation and each interaction. A Yogic mind is simply aware without pushing or pulling.

The journey is delicious. In a healthy way. Bitter, sour and pungent may be as good for us as sweet, in different times of our lives.

In hopes that our study of being alive may be enlightening. Together.



Lydia