“Letting go is the opposite of fearing death; it is trusting life.  When we let go of something, our hand opens and we are able to receive.”

-Rolf Gates, Meditations from the Mat

Day 300 – There are so many questions which cannot be answered about death and life, and yet we try.  We worry, obsess, and pontificate.  On any given day, I consider what I eat, what yoga practice I start my day with, what time I get up, what I wear, plan my schedule, what degree I throw myself into or out of a workout, etc., ad nauseam.  We never really come to a conclusion.  I believe, in part, that I signed up for pre-calc looking for life’s linear regression–an equation where life was solved.

Morning practices open me up to my greatest responsibility of navigating the complex roles that is life.  So much depends upon an equanimous mind and an open heart, and I’m not sure many days that I am totally committed to this.  Yoga is an old friend, like my body, one I feel fairly comfortable stepping into most mornings, where I feel my vulnerability and make peace with myself.  Or, do I?

Is the process of letting go ongoing?  Does it require some fundamental circumstance or cathartic experience to initiate?  Is it found in the slow march toward all humanity’s demise or the sum total of all our actions and inactions on and off the mat?  Where does the line or circle drawn in the sand appear–one which I can cross and say, “I let go!”  In earnest, I often just feel jaded or defeated upon arriving at my work day when I cannot or did not reach all my students, or when my words, said with love, are misconstrued by my family.  What is this process or lesson of letting go which escapes me?