The truth is, I don’t know a thing about writing.
What I know to be true is when I started to dive deeper into my practice,
Each time I stepped onto my mat,
I discovered a new place within myself.
These discoveries began to float to the surface of me,
and thoughts and ideas and sensations
would get stuck in my throat;
my heart and head bursting with the energy of the unsaid,
To breathe air into them and bring them to life,
releasing the hold they had
on my right hip or my left ankle,
or in my busy, chattering, monkey mind,
I began to write.
(Words and I have always had a special kind of love affair;
from a young age I was hooked on the magic of letters forming words,
crafted into sentences, and finally, into stories.)
I practice yoga to shake the skeletons out of my closet,
to feel all of the grief and joy,
(and everything in between)
that this beautiful life has to offer.
It’s an exploration,
a treasure hunt,
to move my body and mind;
down to my very heart and bones.
Written by Bryonie Wise
Join Bryonie on July 4th at Octopus Garden for “Yoga and Writing”, part of the “Yoga and Our Passions” series at Octopus Garden. Click here for more details!