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Today, yoga was divine.  I don’t know why It took me twelve years to feel comfortable with the idea of guiding my own flow.  I used to be filled with so much fear that, if not led by a pre-arranged salutation, I would do things in an order that was not good for my body or energetic wellbeing.  Finally, I’m actively understanding that the only “wrong” way to do yoga is to go against intuition.  It is about trust.  Trust in my body.  Trust in my connection to the energy that surrounds me.  Trust that, enveloped in an expression of love, I would never harm myself.

Ah, trust.  It’s a slippery thing to appreciate.  One moment we’re locked solid in our intuition, the next, doubt fills our core.  It is this dramatic sometimes.  I have no problem trusting people.  I’m not a “trust is earned” type of person.  I offer trust freely until given reason not to (and even then it is generally easily offered again).  Mind you, I am not a foolish or gullible person.  I simply believe that I will know if a person is not trustworthy.  I will know it without need for explanation.  And if I don’t get that feeling, then trust comes easily to me.

Trusting myself can be another matter, though.  It’s amazing how quickly the fat kid in me returns, insisting that she should not be left alone to figure out anything having to do with physical activity.  “Do you not remember always being chosen last in gym class?  There was a reason for that!”  If this isn’t the tune the little bugger sings, then it’s generally something spiritual.  Little Kate (as I like to call my ego) just loves to jump in with her latest spin on the “you’re not spiritually evolved enough to do that” story.

This voice has been getting smaller and smaller.  Perhaps I’m finally taking the advice in all the books I’ve read.  Be kind, they say, say hello to the thought, thank it for the message, and ask it to leave.  Or maybe I just don’t buy it anymore.  It seems that lately I’ve been less and less willing to believe that any part of me is out to get me.  My inner saboteur is shrinking by the minute.

This morning, I put on some new age music, unrolled my yoga mat, and danced with the flow of the energy around me.  My aura was tinged in purple.  I held poses for longer than I ever have before.  I smiled.  On the wall, my inner light was reflected back to me.  As I relaxed my gaze, I used my own reflection to keep my balance.  It was fantastic.  It seems, after twelve years of practicing off and on, I’ve gotten to the heart of yoga.  I went within.  I trusted myself.  And I bloomed.