Last week, I hit a beautiful stride in practice. All was flowing smoothly: the breath, the corresponding postures. Even my difficult poses seemed to be giving way. Backbending, which has been so elusive of late, seemed to have returned. I was so happy.
The last two days, however, has been a different story with a completely different body. I’m not thrilled, but I also accept that this is a part of the journey.
It’s a humbling reminder that sometimes practice is a little like drawing on sand, that some depths take a great deal of time to set, that there is a certain impermanence to day to day practice, that it takes little to sweep away what we have so artfully crafted.
Still, there is no need to be frustrated. There is no need to be attached. This is the nature of things, that nothing stays the same, least of all our minds, our bodies.
Maybe this is the greater lesson: to know that what we do, what we create, what we breathe life into will inevitably change, or die, or go away–and not just be ok with that, but instead actively celebrate this cycle of life and living.
Photo: Zeina composing circles in the sand, the sun setting behind her, during our Ashtanga in the White Desert Retreat. White Desert, Farafra, Egypt.