Most days I'm unwilling to speculate or pinpoint what yoga has "taught" me. More often than not the inquiry has more to do with whether or not I can put my feet behind my head (yes, I can). But the most profound teaching that I have found in the yoga is: Stop, Look, and Listen. It isn't in any book but it is in the everyday, be-here-completely-in-the-moment (yet to be written) handbook.
I'm up early today waiting from a call from the east coast, clicking around the net and slowly getting motivated for the day. During a pause between clicks, I looked up to see a hummingbird having a restful moment (just sitting there) in the magnolia tree outside my window. What a great gift for the morning.
The magic happens in the spaces of life. Movement is special but we have to stop from time to time to receive the gifts, to allow our senses to take in all that magic we so often miss while we're clicking or whatever-ing. My beloved voice teacher, Margery, used to say: The difference between the student and the artist is that the artist doesn't fear the silence. I'm sure there's a way to relate that to the yogi and the master (or guru or mahayogi) but... why?
Now the question is, will I be attached and expect to see a still hummingbird in that magnolia tree again? Hmm.