Do yoga with no goal but to be in the moment. 
This breath, this stretch, this wave of emotion rolling in. 
Watch it crest, and break, then dissipate.

Hold the body like a lover in a close embrace,
listening with intimacy, touching with tenderness.

Yoga is a threshold into mystery; 
each pose an open doorway & an invitation to unfold.

Sensations rise and fall, and through it all
the deathless center radiates the simple truth of union.

Danna Faulds - Go In and In

Breath, the mindful breath, the rhythm, out and in,
the wave that washes through our days, 
creating space for stillness, sorrow, joy, or exaltation. 
Full, then empty, ebb and flow, 
breath accompanies each step into the unknown.
In the breath, the soul finds an opportunity to speak.
Images or intuition, poetry or wordless wisdom
come and go - no effort but to breathe and listen.

Danna Faulds - Go In and In

Something will be born from 
this goodbye.  In the pain of 
setting forth, something will die.
With the release of the old 
comes a moment when nothing 
is firmly held, and the unknown 
burns the bridges of the past.

When the smoke clears, my eyes 
seek out the new horizon.
Nothing is known here, but
the air is sweet and breathing
deeply I see long dormant 
seeds send up their shoots
from the fertile ground of change.
As leaves unfurl to meet the sun, 
the circle is complete. 
I will not forget a single 
step of this journey, nor will I 
let comfort lock me 
in its warm embrace.

I do not know what fruit these
seeds will bear, but I have faith
that what is taking root today 
will surprise me with its vigor.
In birth and death, the 
in breath and the final exhalation, 
there is pain and the movement 
into truth. I take the step 
that I am called to even if 
I do not know the final destination. 

Go In and In 
by Danna Faulds

Two butterflies meet in midair.
They celebrate their intimate pairing
and fly as one being with mingled wings.
When their impromptu coupling is complete
they take their leave, 
no sadness in their parting. 

Go In and In 
by Danna Faulds

In memory of  Waterfalls with Rainbows,
Yellow Butterflies & meeting Eran

Listen to the story told by the reed,
  of being separated.

Since I was cut from the reed bed,
  I have made this crying sound.

Anyone apart from someone he loves
  understands what I say.

Anyone pulled from a source
  longs to go back. 

At any gathering I am there,
  mingling in the laughing and grieving,
  a friend to each, but few will hear
  the secrets hidden within the notes.
    
No ears for that.

Body flowing out of spirit,
  spirit up from body:
  no concealing that mixing.

But it's not given us to see the soul.
    The reed flute is fire, not wind.
  Be that empty.

Hear the love fire tangled in the reed notes,
  as bewilderment melts into wine.

The reed is a friend to all
  who want the fabric torn and drawn away.

The reed is hurt and salve combining.
  Intimacy and longing for intimacy, one song.

A disastrous surrender and a fine love, together.
  The one who secretly hears this is senseless.
  A tongue has one customer, the ear.
    
A sugarcane flute has such effect
  because it was able to make sugar in the reed bed.

The sound it makes is for everyone.

Days full of wanting,
  let them go by without worrying that they do.

Stay where you are inside such a pure, hollow note.
    Every thirst gets satisfied except
  that of these fish, the mystics,
  who swim a vast ocean of grace
  still somehow longing for it!

No one lives in that without
  being nourished every day.

But if someone doesn't want to hear
  the song of the reed flute,
  it's best to cut conversation short,
  say good-bye, and leave.

“Strange is our situation here upon earth. Each of us comes for a short visit, not knowing why, yet sometimes seeming to a divine purpose. From the standpoint of daily life, however, there is one thing we do know: That we are here for the sake of others... for the countless unknown souls with whose fate we are connected by a bond of sympathy. Many times a day, I realize how much my outer and inner life is built upon the labors of people, both living and dead, and how earnestly I must exert myself in order to give in return as much as I have received”

Albert Einstein

"THE FIREFLY - This is a symbolic message to us humans that although our physical appearance may seem one way - it is our internal makings - what is inside us (our spirit) that makes us shine from the inside out. That which is within us will always illuminate us and those around us. 

When fireflies come into our lives they are there to guide us to ways of living that are more earth-friendly, and soul-friendly. Fireflies teach us the value of living simply, and relying on our own inner voices for illumination. Fireflies also come to us with a message of creativity, and remind us that our paths are made lighter by the beauty that we allow into our lives. 

The firefly primarily uses its light in mating ceremonies, and it is quite elaborate an intricate. Light signals are precise and exactly timed in order to attract the right mate. This is a symbolic message that if we are to attract the people, places and things in our lives, we must plan accordingly, lay down the groundwork, and be persistent in our ideals"

"Every aspect of Nature reveals a deep mystery and touches our sense of wonder and awe. Those afraid of the universe as it really is, those who pretend to nonexistent knowledge and envision a Cosmos centered on human beings will prefer the fleeting comforts of superstition. They avoid rather than confront the world. But those with the courage to explore the weave and structure of the Cosmos, even where it differs profoundly from their wishes and prejudices, will penetrate its deepest mysteries"  Carl Sagan

Yoga is to still the patterning of consciousness. Yoga is to still the thought waves of the mind. Yoga is to bring natural quiet to the mind and body - so that we can, for the first time, see clearly. And in this stillness - miraculously, outrageously - the knots undo themselves. Inner realities emerge. Inner stillness opens a doorway in the mind. A little trapdoor we have rarely noticed. A secret escape hatch for the mind that is not even in the western psychological user's manual. In order to be found, we must first acknowledge the radical degree to which we're lost. Then, we must pay very close attention:

Stand still. The trees ahead and the bushes beside you are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here, and you must treat it as a powerful stranger, Must ask permission to know it and be known. The forest breathes. Listen. It answers, I have made this place around you. If you leave it you may come back again, saying Here. No two trees are the same to Raven. No two branches are the same to Wren. If what a tree or a bush does is lost to you, you are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows where you are. You must let it find you.

Stephen Cope