when you know how to listen, everybody is the guru

This ran through my head this morning as I pulled myself off the pavement with my trusty steed on top of me.

my ride

The driver poked her head out the window to make sure I was “okay”, and then took off, so I can’t say for sure what ran through her head, but I suspect fear was the overwhelming feeling. A few things came up right away:

1. The first thing that ran through my head was, “I don’t have time for this. I have to get to yoga!”

2. The second thing that ran through my head was, “oh, oww.”

Some aftermath, as I lounge with my feet up at home.

Maybe that means I’m dedicated. Maybe that means I’m self-destructive. As the witnesses all around me got fired up checking out my instant bruises, I shakily accepted their advice, took some phone numbers, and accepted one girl’s offer to ride with me to my destination.

I surround myself with people who lift me up.

And then I went to class, and as usual, Reno offered some perfectly timely wisdom about universal love and unity, and I dedicated my practice to the driver. I can steam or whine about it, or I can offer what I actually have to the universe, which is a big fat heart. Every backbend and hip opener was for her, and maybe she felt it. (And maybe she will learn how to drive through a roundabout on 10th Ave.)

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