After four months of putting up (sometimes with hands flailing in the air in frustration) with a torn knee ligament and meniscus due to a ski accident in March and barely dodging knee surgery, I'm finally back on the yoga mat again. And in a brief lucid moment in savasana when I was gazing at my life impersonally as if it weren't even mine, a settling feeling of contentment washed over me.
I had spurts in the past where sadness loomed like an ominous cloud - not for things I could not possess or acquire, but because I was unrecognizable to myself. But now, that's a distant reverie. A full week before the actual date of my (auspicious!) birth, I have calm. I have equanimity. I celebrate not just another year of my life but I celebrate that I do so with recognition of who I am, where I belong, and what my place is in this world. I am grateful and I realize that this is a gift, this clarity that life is about earning and deserving the great things - not the ephemeral, material ones, but the intangible, ethereal ones, the ones that take a lot more painstaking work. And I pray for an unstoppable momentum to be the best human being I can be yet, year after year after year.
Namaste.
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