“Time is not a constant, it’s a concept,” he says. Pulling up the deep roots of injustice and oppression in this world so that something more beautiful might take its place, has been the work of many people over many lifetimes, and will be the work of many people in many lifetimes beyond me. I may not get to see the world I long for, yet I must commit to making that effort a practice, and a non-negotiable.
Essentially, it is in the humility of coming to practice again and again, without promise of reward, that I can cultivate the skills and resilience needed to stand squarely in the face of the challenges, heartbreaks, and injustices at hand, and to meet them with presence, wisdom, and action. It is practice that builds capacity to simultaneously hold despair and joy, anger and love. Yoga is not something to be checked off a list of things to do in order to be “good” and achieve perfection. Yoga asks that I meet discomfort with curiosity, over and over again, so that when the shit hits the fan, I can be there for it with faculties intact, and with a heart filled with love and compassion even as it breaks into a million pieces. Yoga is what reminds me that I belong to all of life, and that all of life belongs to me, so that when I meet others across lines of difference to speak and receive truths about harm and pain, I remain present, amidst my own discomfort, and claim accountability for my role in the brokenness and also in mending the brokenness through a collective reimagining of ourselves and of our systems.
“Maybe my dharma — my purpose, the way in which I contribute to the whole — can include my experiences of pain, injury, and illness, rather than being separate from and in spite of those experiences. “
