I haven’t heard these words until a few months ago. And when I did, it sounded like a distant memory.
In the same way a flower is a flower, a tree is a tree, movement, is my center. And to suppress my movement is to suppress something deep within my nature. A wild horse needs space to roam or it gets sick, salmon needs to swim upstream to mate. Some of us have wild hearts – and to be pinned down is suicide.
My depth, my path, my truth, my integrity will not look like yours. I may not find peace sitting in an ashram, chanting quietly to myself. Rather, I may find peace in the moment to moment unfolding of my truth self, the big, cosmic “yes” to the invitation of life to be more, to love more, to thyself stay true. To deny this path is to default to a journey not worth taking.
But one day, when all is said and done, basking in the glory of a day well spent, I may just join you on the mat, sitting, in stillness: with no where to go, no one to be.