Namaste

Namaste.

“I bow to you.”

How great would this old world be, how empathetic its people, if we all took a moment to bow toward each other and acknowledge the lifeforce within.

Breathe deeply.

Heart centered.

Namaste.

“I get it.”

I’m no yogi. In fact, I’m sure I haven’t touched my toes with an unbent knee in nearly half a century. I wobble, my muscles shake and I often blurt, “What did she say?”

My butterfly is more of a chrysalis.

Still, I love the outdoor yoga classes offered throughout our city this summer.

I stand proudly in a sapling version of the tree pose, breathing in the happy sound of children playing, breathing out the day’s stress.

Around me stretches a chorus of hundreds — strangers, friends, children, instructors.

Namaste.

I have no idea what I’m doing. Turn where? Point what?

Downward dog.

Breath in.

Stretch.

Thank you, mother earth, for holding me up.

Beautiful world.

Beautiful people.

Namaste.