No Mud, No Lotus

and I turn to yoga once again

Photo by Al Soot on Unsplash

I couldn’t get a post out for yesterday, sorry about that. My internal existentialangstometer has been in the red for several days. It broke this morning around 3:45 a.m. when I awoke with a stomach ache and checked the NYT app.

So, here we are.

I was raised to keep my beliefs and most opinions about religion and politics to myself (would you expect anything else from someone raised by a parent who grew up in post-war Germany?). I grew up in a part of the world that, even in the 1970s, had a diverse cultural makeup. Maybe as a kid you repeated a stupid offensive joke once or twice, because you didn’t know better, but you also had best friends who were Chinese, Filipino, Japanese, etc. You learned to be respectful of others, and found out pretty quickly that most people didn’t have the same views you did. And that was okay.

Now I live in a place where it hardly occurs to anyone that I might have a different view from them—and if I do, it is the WRONG ONE. And I don’t like to say too much in public spaces; I don’t like arguing with people and I don’t like being made to feel I have to prove myself to anyone. So I keep quiet.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel things or have opinions or fears about what is occurring.

Abraham Hicks suggests that the solution to something is not on the same vibratory level as the problem. If you hang around in the presence of the problem, you never find a way out. Rise up to find the solution.

So today I keep going. Yes, I’m concerned for democracty. Yes, I can hardly stand to look at that person’s (I use that term loosely) face. I think we are on a slippery slope. It sucks.

But the sun is out today. I hear birds, who I find very inspirational by their simple existence. And this morning before waking, I dreamt that three Monarch Butterflies came to rest in my hair, and stayed there.

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