The small ruby everyone wants has fallen out on the road.
Some think it is east of us, others west of us.
Some say, “among primitive earth rocks,” others, “in the deep waters.”
Kabir’s instinct told him it was inside and what it was worth,
and he wrapped it up carefully in his heart cloth.
Kabir (The Kabir Book)
About six weeks ago, and on the auspicious first day of the new year, even a new decade, I kicked off this blog with the topic “New Year’s Resolutions”. Of course for a yoga blog, that title is likely to conjure up the notion of committing oneself to personal yoga practice. (Now, relax, no one is checking up on your resolutions….)
Over these last few weeks, it may seem that I’ve meandered somewhat; I’ve driven over 350 km. to Sydney to hospital for surgery, to rehabilitation for recovery, and now am finally installed back home on Mitchells Island.
Through all of these disruptions, I was constantly reminded of the gift of long-term yoga practice. I don’t really think it’s necessarily achieving a perfect kurmasana or virabhadrasana three. For me, yoga is a durable filament that leads you to that ruby Kabir says is on the inside, wrapped up in one’s heart cloth.
In hospital, sometimes my yoga practice simply consisted of connecting with the feeling of gratitude for my carers. Other times, my practice involved opening my heart to myself – acknowledging discomfort, grumpiness, fear. It’s transformative to give feelings loving attention.
My friends says, “Does the world need another perfect trikonasana?” Maybe not as much as the flowers and gemstones that grow in one’s heart. Still, I am looking forward to my first triangle pose, even thought it may be weeks, maybe months down the line.