Yoga And Sunny Yoga
Yoga hurry up and rush forward to your mat, to your poem and poetry, to your thoughts, to your intentions. Cry in complete silence. And tell yourself a story. My story was about hate. And how I am learning from it. I tell myself that I am no longer standing on the sidewalk of my cousin’s house in Bangladesh, weeping about how unfair it is. I couldn’t help but think of how much she hurt her father so much. I’m just as much a victim of heartbreak as she, and I wish she would just let him back out of her life, not force him, for he had been a good man. I just wished I could close my eyes and spit outlines that anyone could understand in a way that doesn’t hurt me. Though when I close my eyes, it feels like my body is praying, telling me, “Hey, buddy, we want you. Let’s get you back here so that you can be free, where you belong, where your friends belong.” When I tell myself my story, my body feels calm, my soul is awake, my mind is cle...