Shadow and Light


Lucky to have a place to stand and see the sky while still being at home. With icy sidewalks and the pandemic raging, it seems a beautiful time to go inward.

I was puttering around the house, and all of a sudden, all the light in the house went pink. I stepped out on the second floor sleeping porch and saw the sky was on fire for a moment.

We have a choice. We can emphasize what we don’t think enhances life (for example, an over-sized, gas-guzzling, suburban SUV with city plates) or we can focus on an exquisite reflection of beauty. That we see what optimally would better be changed or shifted to be more fully aligned with nature or that we speak of it does not mean that we are not seeing beauty or embracing the whole of life with love.
What does it mean to excel, to do well? I think there is no excelling in yoga, at least not the way we conventionally think of excelling in school or career or sports. But to practice in a way that is more than casual, there must be ardor–tapas.
Tapas is often translated as fire, and the texts are full of stories of outrageous physical exertions done to prove the tapas of the practitioners looking for boons from the gods.
There is a fiery aspect to tapas, but I question whether it must necessarily be burning from physical exertion, though that is a path that calls out to many.
The fire of tapas could be thought of as doing what it takes to manifest the will to know something deeply enough to be able to experience the fluency and grace and delight of expertise. It could be the ardor to show up in a disciplined and committed way for hours and days and years of practice, always still wanting deeper, fuller knowing.