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ancient words

The start of my yoga training is rapidly approaching and my required reading textbooks have begun to arrive.  I am feeling equally exhilarated and somewhat terrified.  I eagerly open the covers and start reading little gems of knowledge-or see a picture of a renowned yogi displaying a difficult yoga pose absolutely perfectly.  My brain is firing on all cylinders taking in all of the new info… and also things I have learned years ago that are being presented in a different light.  Some of the words written in these amazing books are thousands of years old.  It is so illuminating to read the journeys of people who experienced the same emotions and enlightenment as I have on their own yogic path.  When I take classes, I know that I am at a very advanced level.  I have been practicing for many years, I have invested time and emotion into exploring the deeper meaning behind the physical movements.  But in the grand picture of all the yogis in history-I am really a teenager.  Maybe a devoted college student.  I love that we can connect to the journeys of those who came before us and realize we really haven’t changed that much over thousands of years.  We may have computers and cell phones, hybrid cars and airplanes, fast food and even simple electricity, but our search for happiness, our doubts and faults, our questions and answers are remarkably the same.  To me, it just reinforces the truth that whatever path you choose to find your own  happiness, looking to our elders and respecting the past will always connect you to our shared humanity.

ebb and flow

You can’t be in the olympics everyday.

Have you ever watched a highly trained athlete in a major competition?  Truly an inspirational sight to behold.  Zero body fat, toned sculpted muscles, laser beam focus and energy to spare.  But it is simply a wonderful moment in time.  High level athletes cannot possibly keep this level of perfection every day of their lives.  It is the result of a well planned “peak”.  You cannot run a full marathon every day.  You’d be exhausted and probably injure yourself.  Worst of all you’d probably start hating marathons.  You would have drummed out all your enthusiasm too.  You’d get up in the morning and think….oh NO…I have to run another marathon today.  ugh….

However, we live our lives like we’re in the olympics everyday.  We expect our bodies to be perfect all the time. We never allow for a softening…of mind or muscle.  We chastise ourselves for an extra cookie or if we sleep in later and miss the trip to the gym.  We start to blame and punish ourselves for perceived laziness.  What is it about our culture that doesn’t allow for the ebb and flow of life?  Sometimes we have a little less energy than the day before.  We are taught to plow through and push harder instead of listening to ourselves.  There is no time to recharge.  Eastern cultures and yoga sages teach that sometimes rest and stillness are needed more than power and charge.  The wisest learn to ride the waves.  That way when the olympics of life are approaching, you can really bring it.

age and wisdom.

I was walking in Central park today and I began to marvel at the huge, beautiful, old trees.  They are always there.  Steady, dependable and gorgeous.  But I have rarely connected with more than just the beauty of a big, old tree.  Trees this size are older than me.  By many years.  They have survived terrible storms, insect infestations, high winds and harsh winters.  They have witnessed human triumphs, failures and joys.  They bear scars from fire or disease.  Some have fallen.  But those that remain are survivors.  They have the wisdom of the years and aren’t the young, lush perfect specimens they once were…..but they are glorious reminders of life lived.  Today, as I gazed up at the hundreds of years before me…I felt reeeeeaaaaallllyy small.  I felt a connection to something greater than myself.  Big old trees are beautiful because they have AGE.  Young trees although beautiful and lush, don’t compare.

Now how come we can’t apply this to our own aging process? Celebrate the scars and the triumphs and the knowledge gained after living a full life?

No reason why we can’t.   I’m sticking with the trees.