A friend and I complained about and compared aches and pains this morning. Nothing major, just the typical signals of age rolling into bodies once youthful.
I have a list of things that talk to me if I move wrong:
- The muscle I pulled in my lower back years ago tells me to mind how I turn, squat and stand.
- The tendon I damaged in my foot reminds me to step lightly when I first get going. It also tells me to turn the damn light on in the garage so I visually account for the fact that there are steps there.
- The shoulder that suggests strongly that I be wary of how I hold heavy things or make certain movements.
As I went through these, I realized that these were all little bells of mindfulness. They ring throughout the day reminding me to pay attention to my body as it moves through space. They remind me to pay attention.
This moment to moment mindfulness of the body is the yoga of life. My pain helps me live without rushing through and missing something. It reminds me that life is right here, right now. It’s not somewhere else.
Suffering and Joy are the wings of the same bird. If I deny one, this bird can’t fly.
A wise man knows samsara and nirvana are not two – Milarepa
What is the yoga of your life?