Wild Yoga

yoga and thought from Theo Wildcroft

Driving home

DSC_0459 (1)And I’m driving home from class with frost on the windows, into the depths of the night. I’m winding down the lanes, skipping pot holes, a little wired on unaccustomed caffeine, on the night and the cold, and the release of it all, and above all, on the music pouring into my ears from this woman’s wondrous heart.

 

And a fox catches my eye for the longest moment, and the sky is so clear, and there’s not another head, or taillight to be seen. So I pull over, and turn up the music and step out of the car, lights out, stereo up, holding out my arms to the night.

 

And there I dance. There I step and turn, sway and swirl, stamp and even shout. There I call to the endless stars and the night-black fields. I call to hearth and tribe and stillness and solitude and I remember who I am.

 

May we remember, my brothers and sisters. May we know these moments of perfect connection and know ourselves for the hearts we hold. My broken lovers. My bowed and burned and beaten siblings. My beauties that the world could not disfigure.

 

We who knew by night that monsters don’t hide under the bed. We whose wounds are too deep to heal. We whose scars are too livid to hide. You and I, we warriors who fight, and fall, and rise again, because this is the only path we can travel. May we remember, and feel the strength we are always carrying, just to carry on.

 

Yes, I wish us all these moments. These moments when there are no hands to hold, and no brows to soothe. When there are no crusades to fight, nothing to fix, and only ourselves needing saving. These moments where the world with all its chatter falls away, and all our filters fall with it, and we can open our hyper-vigilant selves to the quiet earth, and the perfect night so long denied us.

 

May they hold and receive us, in silence and song, in starlit and moonless wonder, in solitude and love. May we know ourselves for who we truly are, and wonder that the world never once broke our spirits. May we feel the brush of a perfect frozen kiss upon our brows and know this:

 

We were never truly tamed, never really lost, and never, ever alone.

The Music