Real Yoga isn't pretty
Those are poses & remember
models pose
while yogis bleed
Yogis cry and face the ugliest shadows of their insecurities
and past misdeeds
Few are up for it actually
The life thoroughly examined and dedicated to integrity
isn't easy
For when you honestly see and acknowledge what you are capable of
You can't blame others & the work of developing mercy begins
When you see so clearly that you either sabotage or support
And the power was always in you
To create or destroy
The demons of self destruction, self doubt, self hatred don't go down without a fight
& unfortunately when you are making the greatest strides they show up for the final rounds
By now you are already weak from fighting them for years
older, wiser in many ways
But still entrenched in grasping to self
Wounded and scarred
But they don't care ...they eat that up and use it to torture you even more
It's in those hours that you mustn't give up
It's in those hours that the real yogi either fails or succeeds
But success doesn't look like a picture perfect selfie
Sorry
You can't filter fake this battle win
It's a tear stained face
Felt fully without taking refuge in anything else
Sober, addiction mastered, no escape
only option is heart opening
In spite of not getting the desired worldly results
Yet recognizing at last the error in that samsaric quest.
Are you in?
