There were once two yogis who met someone who could tell them how long it would take for them to reach the ultimate goal of yoga.

I have always liked singing, so I really got into Sanskrit chanting when I came across that practice. When I was going through a particularly difficult period almost two decades ago, I decided to recite a chant that is about 182 verses long every day. This chant became a great support for me in so many ways during that time. I did that for over one and a half years. Having realized the  value of this practice, I have continued chanting to this day.

One winter morning I had been walking in the Bloedel Reserve in Bainbridge Island, WA for an hour or so on a snow-covered path. I suddenly got the impulse to turn around and take a step back down the path, which I did. The moment I did that, a very large tree branch fell right behind me, so close that I felt the movement of air it created.

A couple of years ago I decided to limit drastically the time I spend on social media. There is a constant flux of information there that it is easy to have  knee-jerk reactions on a regular basis. I have felt more grounded ever since.

During the introduction of a yoga class I was taking, the teacher said the yoga practice was a way to get to know oneself and discover what makes one tick. I discovered later on that even though this is true, it is not a given. We have to establish this quality of attention as we practice yoga. Sajagatā is wakeful attentiveness, the quality of being genuinely present enough to notice what is occurring during practice, rather than functioning mechanically.

I have been teaching yoga for 26 years. This is a journey that is continuously unfolding. This reminds me of a comment my teacher made about the facilities of the Ashram she lives in. She said how everything looked great but there was also room for improvement. As far as the facilities go, she said this was a good sign. To me this meant that the community was still thriving and growing.