Gracefully she would sway in the breeze and allow secrets to ripple through her hair, making music as through a harp.
She listened quietly to our dreams as we stared at the sunlight streaming through.
And when the storms came, she stood strong and bravely took on the lashes from the forces. The next morning she would stand bruised but tall, and so she reminded us of the inevitable ways of nature.. having faced the onslaught so courageously, she emerged more beautiful still.
When disease came over her, she did not complain, having stood all her life, she gently lay down one fine day, to her final rest.
Leaving behind a mark and many quiet lessons in our lives, that would remain forever.
This post will make sense to those of you who have some insight into Yoga Philosophy.Brahmacharya often translated as celibacy is one of the yamas(or observances/ code of conduct) of Patanjali’s Ashtanga or 8 limbed path of Yoga. Simply saying celibacy however doesn’t seem to do justice to what is being conveyed through the concept […]
Drawing as an exercise to realign to the self.
Drawing as performance. Drawing is an action. On repetition, it creates a doorway to transcendental spaces.