Boga Yoga

It probably shouldn’t take the casualty of these economic times to help us distinguish between the real and the unreal. Who we are, what we need, and everything that has defined us on the outside becomes easily stripped away.

Remembering that I am not the job I do, the home I live in, or the role I play as mother, sister, or brother may be difficult to separate from. Remembering that I am not the mind that problem solves, calculates, or traces endless lists of things to do, may be difficult to quiet. So many things to so many people, but these are just the roles I play. I am not defined by these roles, and my value is not defined by those who have assigned them to me.

Our true self is “that which cannot be burned by the fire, water can not wet it, and wind cannot blow it”. It probably shouldn’t take 20 sun salutations to settle us into a zone where we can move inward, but eventually we find a place where we feel the peace. I recognize that there are many reasons I hit the yoga mat, and they begin with the simplest of poses. Standing in mountain pose, the lesson in challenging times is clear. Stand as a mountain, “a mountain stands in storms and hail without getting affected.”

It was the first Saturday in May, otherwise known as Kentucky Derby Day when I decided to make my first novice bet at the track and pick a few winners. I reviewed photo finishes, previous winnings, pedigrees, owners, and even jockeys blogs.

So as to best spread my risk, I placed bets on seven well researched horses, convinced my chances were excellent and my winnings secure. The only thing I was missing was a chilled Mint Julep in my right hand, and a dramatic piece of millinery on my head as I waited with nervous anticipation for the race to begin.

“Good grief!” I thought as a favorite stumbled. “Oh no!” I exclaimed as another horse I crossed off my short list of nine, headed to the lead. Where were my sure things?! They were all tied up in a pack racing with each other to the finish. All but one horse. The $9,500 horse trailered from New Mexcio who’s owner hobbled on crutches to complete the pre-race parade to the gate.

“Mine that Bird” was bumped, and left dead last in the breakaway heat. No one was watching, but somewhere in the view from the back there was a greater opportunity. A path presented itself, and as in the yogic lesson “It is the space between the bars that holds the Tiger”, the jockey and the horse saw the space open along the rails and blazed their path to the finish.

No matter where find yourself in the scheme of things in this world, cultivate your awareness. Even at odds of 50/1, the path to your higher self will expose itself and all your preparation will be rewarded.