Letting Go in Mexico
During one practice, I offer myself bhakti, or love. I want my mind to be more generous...to me. The world is a tough place. I love my daughter unconditionally and I do my best. I want self-acceptance to replace my self-doubt.
At the end of our last two yoga sessions, Story joins our communion, treats the temple with reverence, and smiles at everyone. After the final Savasana, Bob Marley's "Three Little Birds" brings us back to the room. Story knows the words and sings along: "Don't worry. About a thing. 'Cause every little thing, gonna be aw'right." She comes over to me and holds out two tightly closed fists. In one, she offers me a shell she's found; in the other, a flower.
I look deep into her eyes, beneath the sparkly blue bindi that yoga teacher Rusty Wells has put on her forehead. "Thank you, honey," I tell her. "De nada," she whispers back.
Yes, I can feel it: Every little thing is gonna be all right.
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