Getting it right

I was in a yoga practice this morning that the leader (Shelley Pagitt of Solomon's Porch) couldn't call "yoga" because it's hard for some Christians.  Yoga is, after all, a religious practice at its core that we westerners have absconded and neutered, turning it into breath mindfulness and exercise with an Eastern flavor.  (We like that in the US.  Eastern religions aren't really religions because they're not challenging. We love the exotic, because we have no investment in the outcome.) Anyway, Shelley properly reminded us that "stretching" isn't a competition.  My demon voice muttered, "of course it's a competition!" as I pushed through a tight right groin muscle.

 

I like to think I'm not competitive. And in many areas I'm not -- I'd sooner drown my Playstation Mario than practice wall kicks, would rather lift a slovenly 80 than hurt to do 100. But sometimes going to workshops I have to beat the demons with a stick, as I compare myself and our ministry to others and theirs.  Forget holier than thou.  I'm aiming for up to par.

 

So it's always a relief in the internal battle to sit in a seminar and experience coherence -- to be taken out of the better-than/worse-than DMZ and into a spacious place.  It's not about being affirmed in what's in my heart (which is nice. Let's be honest with one another.) but about experiencing hope and Godliness. Truth in an eternal sense.

 

Truth is never eternal in its details, but in its essence, in its wholeness and beauty.  In the Glory. And what place of breath mindfulness that is.