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.
