Perhaps Love

Another gift of my time in LA was a visit to an Ashtanga mysore class at this incredible yoga studio. When the founder of Ashtanga, Pattabhi Jois, came to the US, he lived in LA, so I went out there excited about the opportunity to take an Ashtanga class with the real deal (or someone directly trained by the real deal). I wasn't disappointed. The teacher, Jorgen, was lovely, and attracted quite a following. There were 40 people all doing the primary series at their own pace on Sunday morning, and the energy generated was really incredible.

I had heard this quote a number of times before going to this class:

“Practice, practice, practice… and all is coming.”  — Sri K. Pattabhi Jois

But I never really felt it, bought it, or internalized it the way I did during that class. My body is not the most flexible, and sometimes I get frustrated about that. I often fixate on whether or not my hip is going to open up more. In other words, there's more of a forcing energy than an allowing one. But not on Sunday, and not yesterday when I practiced in the airport either. I'm hoping I can keep it going in this direction. There's something potent about the combination of discipline and ease that I think can only lead to good things.

Speaking of good things, this song is a good one about the power of love, and if there's one thing I've learned over the last six months it's that maintaining discipline while inviting ease is a direct expression of self love:

Perhaps love is like a resting place
A shelter from the storm
It exists to give you comfort
It is there to keep you warm
And in those times of trouble
When you are most alone
The memory of love will bring you home

We so often think (and I so often blog) about the kind of love we both get and give to other people. And that's hugely important but it's not possible, especially not in its truest expression, without self-love:

Perhaps love is like a window
Perhaps an open door
It invites you to come closer
It wants to show you more
And even if you lose yourself
And don't know what to do
The memory of love will see you through

Oh, Love to some is like a cloud
To some as strong as steel

For some a way of living
For some a way to feel

And some say love is holding on
And some say letting go
And some say love is everything
And some say they don't know

Perhaps love is like the ocean
Full of conflict, full of pain
Like a fire when it's cold outside
Thunder when it rains
If I should live forever
And all my dreams come true
My memories of love will be of you

I've got plenty of memories of being loved by others that I draw upon as needed, but I'm going to add to that list the memory of me fully accepting my body as it is and committing not to the perfection of it but to the practice. 'Cause that's love. No perhaps about it...