Everytime I go into the Big room, start thinking, I start crying. Maybe its the SuperMoon.

Sort of freaks me out that I had psychic yoga dreams the whole weekend Larry died.

Dream 1: I'm coming to class and another teacher of mine, not Larry, is leaving the earlier class, but he is exhausted laying out on this old red couch completely wiped out.

Dream 2: I'm at yoga to the people, and I'm randomly out of nowhere doing handstands in the middle of the room, over and over I do it, just floating there in mid-air.

And finally an epiphany; the way yoga is supposed to mean union, or to yoke together... I've always felt these disparities between my yoga life and my poetry life, like the body vs the mind and they are fighting each other. But I realized when one of my teachers called me out (in front of everyone!) to name the sanskrit of the pose we were doing, and I didn't know because it is the hardest one to know, triang mukhaikapada paschimottanasana, and felt sad I failed my teacher, but its ok, because now it really fired me up to learn all the sankrit names now, I know that one, and then this weekend I spent several hours learning the opening chant to patanjali and I know it now. Intellectual side of yoga! And funny, went to a poetry reading and two of my poetry friends are apparently studying sankrit, just because they love dead languages I guess, and i realized that is the fulcrum that unites my two worlds! I think a truth is there is no duality, really, but it is yoga that strips away the masks and boundaries that cover that truth. If we think there are disparities it is only because we haven't looked deeply enough.

OM
vande gurunam caranaravinde
sandarsita svatmasukhava bodhe
nishreyase jangalikayamane
samsara halahala mohasantyai

abahu purusakaram
sankhacakrasi dharinam
sahasra sirasam svetam
pranamami patanjalim
OM