I was inspired by this poem today:
The Fruits of Practice
from "Going In and In: Poems from the Heart of Yoga"by Danna Faulds
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| Image from: http://www.yoganonymous.com |
and safety, there are many days
when reality doesn’t quite line
up with what I’d choose.
Breakdown. Letting go.
Surrendering even the illusion
of control. Breathing into the
unknown – sometimes that is
what life holds.
Practice hasn’t brought an end
to pain. I still increase my
suffering like a fish caught on
a line. My struggles only draw
the hook in deeper. But being
in reality is its own reward.
It’s the perfect paradox; the
courage to stand and breathe
when everything in me wants
to flee is as great a gift as the
freedom to seek retreat.
No, practice hasn’t brought
an end to pain but it has honed
my willingness to experience
the moment and sometimes see
perfection unfolding in ways
I wasn’t big enough to plan,
much less predict.
Practice isn’t about achieving
a goal. It’s not a means to pole-
vault over suffering.
Practice is my way of looking life in
the face and saying yes to all
its disparate gifts.
Practice keeps me awake when I would
sleep, and reminds me it’s
the journey, unfolding in this
very moment, it’s the journey
that reveals the truth, and
not the destination.
