Each morning during yoga I hear Paul say "steadily pleasant" as he encourages not to stretch too far, which I would normally do, as the extremist I have been, but I am dutiful, obeying the voice and watching Sankari pose and stretch and share a concentrated beauty from within. For decades I believed this practice a pretense as I logged miles, lifted weights, and wore myself out. Now I quietly absorb voiced instruction complete with tiny voiced mistakes and a light chuckle in the reprise of video recorded on July 23rd. Left shoulder hurts, and I have faith in its repeat fluidity when ready. New morning, the same as platonic morning living in the mind of a night person devoted to beginnings and the rasp of daylight soon to evolve into late afternoon and a softer darkness. Here now, each moment, practicing with breath alleviating the sadness.
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