The Mystery

My yoga teacher read this poem last weekend while we were curled in the fetal position, after savasana, after a long and intense practice that seemed to go by in five minutes, after I finally got to do a backbend for the first time in a very long time. It seemed super Lenten to me, and I asked permission to share it. She didn’t write it, but another yoga teacher and author, Danna Faulds, did. Read it slowly, and enjoy.

Walk Slowly

It only takes a reminder to breathe,
a moment to be still,
and just like that,
something in me settles, softens,
makes space for imperfection.
The harsh voice of judgment drops to a whisper
and I remember again
that life isn’t a relay race;
that waking up to life is what we were born for.

As many times as I forget,
catch myself charging forward
without even knowing where I’m going,
that many times I can make the choice
to stop,
to breathe,
and be,
and walk slowly
into the mystery.

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