Bringing my mat out onto the deck, facing away from the sun, I start to focus in on my practice – lifting my arms, focusing on the straightness of elbows? what are the traps are up to? Then, how are my feet? What about that energy line under my arches?
In and in I go until the world around me – my noisy sisters, the smell of bacon, the softer smell of pine blowing through the trees, and the very soft buzz of the hummingbird visiting the cardinal flower for a morning sip – has almost disappeared.
Is this really the goal? Cutting it all out so that I can concentrate to my fullest extent on my body without any distractions? Have I become so disciplined that I can cut out the whisper of morning wind?
Maybe I can’t let it all in – especially in the harsh, honking city – but here I will try a new kind of practice: inviting all to come and play with me – the pines, waving ferns, and even my noisy sisters. The goal is union, not perfection, right?