There Will Always Be a Garbage Truck
by Joanna D.
Everyday I learn something from my practice. The practice. A level of patience I wasn’t aware was required or the gift of compassion for myself and the people who fill the room with me. We breathe together, struggle together triumph together and yet we do it as individuals. Personal practice in a tight knit room.
There are days when the postures flow like an underground hot spring and days when there is no water in sight. Days when sheer determination takes us through and days when the emotions take us someplace else completely. And we do it the next day. And the day after that. Dedication. Devotion. Compassion and love designed to bring us into light! The warm loving light of the Self. The truest sense of ourselves that sits just inside… waiting.
So patient. So kind.
Hari Om. Hari Om. Hari Om.