It’s exactly 1.35am on July 23th and usually in these hours I’m at my most honest and vulnerable. I’ve been 23 going on 3 days now and I realized that I never finish what I start. I promise and I dream, but that’s about all I do…all I can keep up with.

But this morning I found myself in mountain pose, ready to take on all my demons, face my failures head on and move on gracefully. The only time we need to be sorry is when we lose hope, when we lose faith and when we foolishly hold onto anything that doesn’t make us happy. I fold into a back bent and I realize I am strong, I am better than what I was yesterday and each path I take is in my own hands. I surrender in a forward bent…and everything vanishes. All that matters is my breath and the way the blood rushes to my head. Everything falls off of me in a yoga session.

Nothing matters but me and the universe, me and the universe.



About yogirookie

I'm a young mother, living the real life, full of double double toil and trouble. I find that the woes of life do nothing for a soul searching for balance and that's where yoga comes in. I am by no means disciplined and intense spirituality makes me uncomfortable, but what might seem like a small step to some, if actually a giant leap for me.
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