Love letter to Bujapidasana

Ah, bujapidasana…how I take thee for granted. I am chastened to admit this, but when time is short, thou art the posture that gets short shrift: I’m in, I’m out, and in so doing, I fail to savor the near-hydraulic lifting and lowering of bottom and chin, like a seesaw in zero-gravity space.

And then comes a practice where out of nowhere, you remind me of how I longed for thee for so long before you were finally mine. And of how I have always loved thee, my graceful, legs-pressing-against-the arms posture. When nothing else in my practice feels quite right, you are there to remind me that there is always something about the practice to love.

And when, like today, I find myself utterly lacking in focus, you quite artfully bring my head back to the mat. Literally.



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