Little bits of truth bubble up in all of us all the time. I'm blessed with gifts of knowing when those bits are coming beforehand, recognizing them when they arrive, and gifted with a depth of expression to put those bits into words. Maybe that's why I'm drawn to words and reading. Maybe it's the opposite drawing words to me.
We've all been told to do something every day that scares us. It supposed to help you grow or challenge us to live differently to shake up the normal life ruts that we fall into. Well surrendering all the crap that you do and think and emote and fuss about every day, and leaving that crap behind, is the same sort of thing. It shakes you up. There are no ruts. There is more happiness, much more freedom, because, I think, you live with less and less baggage. Lightness is an easier load to carry, no?
My practice isn't about doing poses or sitting on a meditation pillow or wearing tight pants or lighting incense. My practice is about finding my truth again and again and again and again. My practice is about walking the walk. Truth and non-harming are two the the yamas that I'm working through now. I am living truth and non-harming. I cannot levitate.
Practice is one of those words that means by all definitions that there is no mastery. I am not a master of truth. But I will throw myself into the fire over and over again to see what is left of me, to see what rises from those hot, stinky ashes every single day of my life. Each day I practice, whether it's on the mat, or in my conversations, or while cooking for my kiddo, I'm there in my truth because I want to be there. I am going back to the fire every day so I can be clean and so I don't get stuck living some stale lie of a life that doesn't serve me and my practice.
Leave it behind. Let that shit go. The past is always there. But it's so interesting what happens to the past when you leave it there. The future seems so much more accessible and the present, well, that's the real gift. I'm so alive right now. I'm glowing. I radiate light and power and honesty.
I am the mother of dragons married to a bit of the Phoenix. I'm the rightful queen of this life of mine. I own this fire. I practice in fire. Ashes are air. All of my little truth bits have space to bubble up and be heard because I'm not stuck focusing on some lost moment in the past, some ancient fear or wrong. The yuck is burnt off every day. All what's left is the truth. It's all me.