Journal: 12/3/17

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Every night, before I go to sleep, I write. Journaling is my sadhana, my daily practice, and has been one of my most valuable embodiments of svadhyaya, self-study. It is this practice that gives me the most true words to articulate my experience and the space to notice how I feel. I reflect on the day, I state my gratitude, and I set an intention for the next day. Every single night. This is what I wrote last night. I share it with you to offer an intimate glimpse of the way I live yoga and to offer an example of one of the ways you can too.

Quietly dialed tonight. I didn't want to talk, I wanted to focus. I still don't want to talk, actually. I'm in my own mind tonight, scrolling through data as I think about what pieces from my past might meaningfully and intentionally inform my future. I'm comfortably tired from a full day of fresh air and I'm hopeful for snow. Thinking about meeting people and being alone, about what the necessities are and are not, about what I'm capable of and what I might contribute, what my gifts are. I want to say that this feels like the calm before the storm, but what's coming isn't loud bright colorful chaotic. The power that I feel rising as the moon begins to wane again is dark, graceful, smooth, rippling, lithe. Jet black with green eyes and white teeth. I'm stalking my own future success, patiently grinding away. The taste of what my life could look like fills my mouth more and more and I imagine that soon it will fill my whole being as does my breath. There is no fear tonight, only calm knowing like a predator patiently aware that the kill is imminent. I will seize my life. I am that.

I want to lock eyes with another human whose lust for life is an overwhelming driver in the way they move, whose passion for sampling savoring as much experience of their form and time on the planet as possible defines their sense of self and purpose as much as mine does.

I'm grateful for the wind, for my sore legs, for my anthem emerging.

Intention: begin again.