Laughing Yoginis

Dearest Prague , I learned today that the first day of yoga training is the hardest. You're going to do great, just know that its the hardest because everyone has a story about how they aren't good enough, or how they are going to mess up -- or god forbid that they aren' t afraid at all because they think th eir perfect (rarest of all). I know you are not one of the proud ones, so when your story gets going about how you aren't good enough or how you're gonna mess up, just remember to breathe -- we your Yoga brothers and sisters in training have all been through that time and you are not alone. Breathe dear, and stay with it. You ARE the one dear, now BE the one. I can't wait till you get home and tell me all about it.

If you've been reading the blog lately, you'll notice I've been suffering from looking at myself. Most people spend their whole lives looking at themselves inside -- and they repackage and reexamine the things that they already know so they seem new and interesting . They cling to their identities and expectations and to the things that look and feel familiar. Even the things that seem new and exciting are usually familiar in certain ways. But they don't know that they are doing it. [And if that describes you, my reader, don't worry -- you can look away too, once you know how to do it. ] But really, looking at ourselves just causes us more suffering. Why? Because it generates a kind grasping clinging to things we can not possibly maintain. It causes us to feel separate and alone, and it causes us to fail to understand the plight of others, even the most wise of us. And so in order to stop our own suffering we must look away from ourselves, from the mental, philoso...

I am beginning to suspect that Downward Dog is a contemplative pose. At least for me. Everytime I am considering writing about Yoga, the post name that comes to mind is Downward Dog. Or something of that nature. This is what it looks like, sort of. Downward Dog. Down Dog. Dog.

Arrival Prayer Departure Dharamsala, January 2007 Some photos compliments of Tsering.

My housemate and I tried to save a little baby mouse today. She had picked it up off the sidewalk where it was being attacked by ants, and she brought it home. We took it to the pet store for some supplies -- it was about 10-14 days old. Tiny squeaks. Fur. Eyes still closed. Cute. We found something to feed it, and a warming lamp to put on an old aquarium I had. Got it home, kept it warm. Washed it, and finally named it Tashi. Then I was feeling confident and decided I would try to feed it (my roommate had rather unsuccessfully tried a couple of times, but we think he got a little something). Its possible there was another reason, but I think I fed it too quickly and it aspirated the pediacare(try getting less than .25 cc into a tiny mouse mouth with a syringe)...... I wish now I had let my roommate feed it. The little mouse passed away in our hands, on our watch. My roommate is happy we did what we could -- at least it wasn't left there on street tormented by ants. It had a better...