I've been teaching yoga, adopting it to my life passing philosophies alonb for a few years now. I've had to step away from teaching yoga for a short while due to life (a couple of times). Whenever I'm away from leading my friends from Samadhi bliss to Chataranga and back again I feel like I'm waiting for the new season to come. Baseball and its metaphores have been with me since age 4 or so. Baseball doesn't have the legs of the Gita, Upanihads, or the Sutras to stand on but it has taught me many of the life's lessons necessary to understand things like... Yoga. It all goes deeper than "be the ball", or "Oh Arjuna"... so much deeper. Great sages of both traditions (if you will) have been born from both. So I digress... why the comparison?
Last night I stepped back on the mat as a teacher for the first time in months and was elated, as I moved my friends and clients through the gift of self care through the poses, and discussed the bridge between the breath and life itself. I felt as though I had only taken a step out of the batters box, only to step back in and into the present moment. Much as the hitter only focuses on the pitcher and the spinning cotton threads of the ball hurling toward him, I felt that nothing else existed except me and 10 souls in the yoga studio. I felt the great joy that as a kid I had on the Sandlot, as I did last night on the mat.
Many times life takes us into an off-season in many forms both literal and figurative. I think the divine lesson here is to enjoy what I learn in the pauses rather than to pine for what was or lament at what may or may not eventually come back.
In as much as I blog to pass along my musings and maybe spur some though, the great lover of things is someone who realizes that yoga is never really gone once you have it, baseball is never really gone. Time is just giving you a chance to enjoy the time to live.