Yoga means “to join”, as in the unification of two things. We can take this concept further with the breath, as the living bridge between mind with body. Others take yoga to mean joining hands and feet in a forward bend. Others understand it to mean joining the human heart with the heart of God. Either way is correct. It is a process. Whether you’re touching hands to feet or reaching for God, there must be movement. This movement is yoga.
Yoga is not about adopting any particular set of beliefs but about coming to know through your own experience. As in one’s breath; it is absolutely personal and direct. Nobody else can do it for you, though you can turn your breathe onto automatic, breath shallow, not notice the quality, until you finally, you step outside and vroom! Fresh air feels so good and you take in a deep breath.
It has been said that there are only two groups of people who are conscious of their breath. Yogis and smokers, or smoking yogis. Having been a smoker before I became a yogini, I remember fondly the drawing in of smoke as I inhaled from a cigarette and the pleasure of watching the smoke trail from my mouth. Yet yoga won the love of my breathe. Doing both was like cheating on a lover.
Practicing yoga is not about blindly following anything or anyone, but about assisting you on your chosen path. Yoga is a science and study of the Self. It is a vehicle for inner growth and development. Yoga emphasizes the doing and the practice. Perhaps someday when I’m old and completely and honestly irreverent, I’ll chose to practice cigarettes with my yoga and title it Smoking Yoga, but not in this town, where cigs are way too expensive and smoking in public is likened to being a pariah. I’d have go back to some place European or Asian.
Unlike smoking, yoga can be adapted to fit everybody, no matter what size, shape, age, or physical condition—all are welcome.
