Om

Sadly, I only sit down to write my blog when everything else is cleared off my table and my mind is clear and free of troubling thoughts.  However, its when everything is a complete mess that most of the interesting thoughts actually come to me.  That is most likely what would make fascinating reading and allow for everyone to understand better how yoga and meditation and pranayma have given me a whole new perspective on life.

Perhaps when I am cursing the dog for rubbing his hind quarters on my good carpet is when I can tell whether that daily practice is bringing me to a more wholesome state of mind.  Am I also running at him with the broom, or am I simply scolding him and lifting him to the sink.  Time for a cleaning, Bozo.

Yes, Bozo is our dogs name…and he is most certainly a Bozo.  He looks like one, usually rendered half blind with the hair growing in his face, and behaves like one, running into walls and falling off chairs.  It’s possible it’s from the blindness. One wonders…if Bozo did not have his humans, who would snip the hair off of his forehead?  Its no surprise certain dogs didn’t make it in the wild, they were forced to subjugate themselves to the human race, just for that occasional hair cut.

And who do we subjugate ourselves to for that grooming, in this case, of the mind?  To our own inner divine.  The divine that is ultimately part of the whole, and thus can guide us through most of life’s most taxing moments. And I’m not talking about the carpet.  I’m talking about the time when you watch the market consume over half of what you thought you’d saved, and those savings are currently your bread, no butter, when you know you might be just weeks away from joining all those people who have already lost their homes and livelihoods.

That is when I know my daily practice works…because I only cross bridges when I get to them, I only let adversity affect me until the next meal is served.  And then I know I must thank the powers that be…because I still have a meal to eat, when so many others don’t.  It seems to me that the reason my writing finds itself always ending on a up beat is because that is the place that I have come to live in, to be. There is always something better coming.  We might have to wait for it, but it is out there.