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August 17, 2012

There Will Always be a Garbage Truck. ~ Joanna Darlington

 

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.

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.

 

 

 

Every day I take practice.

Beginning in 2004 with my first class, I have watched my life shift; watched the layers of old beliefs and self-deprecating actions begin to peel away taking me deeper towards a truer rendition of myself. I have studied Iyengar yoga and Restorative yoga, both serving as strong compliments to my regular practice of Ashtanga yoga. I practice it and study it and teach it because I love it. It has taught me to live a different way; a deeper and more loving way; a more aware and honest way. Most importantly, it’s always teaching me. Every day.

I recently moved to Philadelphia from Spokane, Washington to study and apprentice with my teacher David Garrigues at Ashtanga Yoga School Philadelphia. You can follow my continuing adventures at my blog Red Dot Little Duck.

~
Editor: Thaddeus Haas

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