ancestral body, future body

 

what if each āsana is an ancestor?

waiting for you to arrive and unfurl your unruly limbs

opening for you to come with your glorious asymmetries and fill in the shape

like a pencil in a coloring book

your grandmother’s calloused feet

your great grandfather’s furrowed brow

your mother’s flaring autoimmunity

 

with each breath, you smooth the brow

you stretch the toes

you quiet the adrenals and those aggressive cytokines

 

what if each āsana is a being?

waiting to be noticed

fluttering at the edges of senses and consciouness

not human

beyond animal

more subtle than ghosts

 

what if each āsana is a story?

nearly forgotten

accessible only through trance or dreams

the details unfold without words

like a hum or a moan

 

what if each āsana is a yearning?

a call from the other side

like a phone ringing at a frequency human ears cannot hear

but that we can discern through the rumbling of our stomachs

or the catch of a breath

 

what if each āsana is a prayer?

a humble request

a supplication

a petition

beseeching

or a wailing cry

 

what if each āsana asks a question?

one without answers

only more and more layers of questions

like a universe with no beginning or end

 

what if each āsana is a psalm?

praising our brokenness

celebrating our imperfections

applauding our sketchy attempts

that glitchy knee

the crooked sacrum

those 2 vertebrae sticking like concrete

an armor we cannot find the key to shedding

 

I arrange myself just so

mindful of every joint

softening my diaphragm

feeling the air moving through my nostrils

 

then wait

and listen