When I began practicing, I was coming out of a Wallstreet job, and a long term relationship. I gave everything up, and started melding with the grass.

I'd do slow practices in the yard for hours, and I literally forgot words. I just felt, and stayed, and opened.

one day about eight young men started smoking two houses away. They saw me, and began chanting names, and describing what they were going to do to my posterior. My dog felt the rage, and came and lay under me as I held downward dog : )

I just kept doing Yoga. I didn't know what else to do, so I kept going. All the feelings of joy were such a contrast with this fear.

I finally managed to call out, somewhat calmly 'why are you so angry?'

They left.

this is at the heart of my experience of Yoga. In many ways I wish it wasn't, but it is. I experience Asana and Vinyasa as a path to embodying, and transmuting pain and rage. they stayed with me while my mind has shattered and reformed and shattered and reformed again. They have taught me to trust the feelings in my body, and to care for the body, even when my thoughts are well beyond control to find the breathe, and accept the world.

And even when the world shows hate and pain, if I keep breathing, it too passes, and the joyful glow of the grass remains.

I have found yoga places situations into perspective for me, however far-fetched the situation may seem to me.

I love these comments! I love it when yogi's share their personal experiences of yoga!

:D

Across whatever distance, I send my love,

Michael