For 12 years I have practiced the same sequence, for the most time daily. A part of my routine like brushing my teeth. It has filled me with joy and broken me to pieces. I have loved it and I have disliked it. I have tried to leave it like a discarded lover and I have run back to it like to the arms of a mother. I’ve questioned why I do it and I have realised I have no choice.
This yoga does not change to suit my mood. It does not care to entertain my restless mind. This yoga does not need me. I need it. It has been my constant rock, through death and birth. It has been the only familiar in a sea of choices near drowning me. It is the pillar of strength, of truth and wholeness. It was and always will remain the same so I can change myself.