Sunday, August 24, 2014

Leader of Legends

A story is a treasure, a gem to be shared. It unravels layers one never knew she had. Stories are the veins that run through our bodies. They are the rivers that lead us to each other in this ocean we call life. They are the roots that dig deep into the ground intertwined in each other, unseen by many.

Stories keep us alive. They keep us moving yet keep us still. They speak the language of solitude and spontaneity, of adventure and peace.

My father used to tuck me in at night with a story. Sitting at the edge of my bed, he told of ponies and princesses, and animals that talked. His voice was like a mountain, rising and falling and speaking in different accents when that was what a character required.

I don’t remember any particular story he told during this time but I remember feeling safe, like the stories carried me into the night. They were gentle with me and kind.

My father was good at pretending. He was and is the most imaginative person I know. And I love him for that.

He was my personal storyteller, the ambassador and leader of all legends.

Sometimes he would sing to me and it didn’t matter that he was terribly off-key. I don’t think he even noticed or cared. In that moment, all that mattered was that he was there. Tucking me in and letting me listen. What a gift it was to listen.

My father is my storyteller and now I am his.

Wednesday, August 6, 2014

In the Wake of the Arch

Targeting the lower spine like nothing else, the back bend destroys me.
My hips inch their way forward as I create a bridge with my upper torso and my eyes climb down the back wall behind me.
My ribs escalate upward as if instructed by puppet strings.
My mind, blank.
My breath, short.
In through my nose.
Out through my nose.
Each inhale calming me down, slowing my heart rate like train tracks at the end of their course.

It is here- in this amplifying, belligerent arch- that I experience healing.
A touch from the divine.
A kiss at my lower back.
And then a gentle whisper.
“Stay, stay.”
Be healed.
Be present.

This is why I do yoga.
This is what keeps sending me back and back and back even more.
Further into the arch.
Further into the sacred kiss, the holy touch.
The ultimate sacrament of love.

Through body.
Through spirit.
Through breath.