bright shining star

I still would like to teach yoga, mainly because I think I would be very good at it.

I have a conception of yoga. It's not an original concept, but I find it very beautiful. I think asanas, the postures, should be done slowly, carefully, gracefully, linked one to another like a choreography or a string of sausages, and always intimately wedded to the breath. This is Viniyoga.

Also, a good practice shouldn't end with the ending of asana. There should be more; that might be a little tough to sell, but this is also Viniyoga.

Besides knowing what I want to teach, I also know who: people around my own age, primarily. And I think I could help a lot of them.

It's not going to be easy reaching this goal, this bright shining star. Before I can do so I have to deal in a more effective way with my current difficulties. I've been sliding along, moving slowly or not at all and mostly just hoping for the best. But this disease is aggressive, and I have to be aggressive back. It's worth a try, and we'll see what happens.

If I can do this thing -- something fairly simple, I think, for a lot of people -- it will be one of the major achievements of my life, and in its way harder than the process of establishing myself as a classroom teacher was, 20 years ago. It's like a war this time rather than just a series of steps, and I'm going to have to be a real tough guy.

Take me home, bright shining star, as Charlie Patton sang in "High Water Everywhere."

--30--