Self understanding

 Today, I slow down enough to listen.

My body wakes before my thoughts do.

It twists, opens, and asks to be met where it is—not rushed, not judged.

When I finally arrive on the mat, I feel the space returning.

The tightness was never punishment.

It was attention waiting to be given.

I notice how the spine opens when I stop forcing it.

How stillness teaches me more than effort.

How being present is not something I do, but something I allow.

In the quiet hours, thoughts pass through me.

Connection. Curiosity. Desire.

I watch them rise, and I let them go.

Nothing is wrong with wanting.

Nothing is wrong with releasing.

I remind myself of my wealth.

Not as an idea, but as a feeling.

Breath in the lungs.

Awareness in the body.

Presence in this moment.

I begin to see how easily the world tries to measure me.

By what I own.

By where I sleep.

By how I appear.

And I gently ask myself when I allowed those measurements to touch my emotions.

If I leave this body today, none of those things follow me.

So I return my attention to what remains.

Breath.

Movement.

Awareness.

Love.

I listen to stories that have been told many times.

I don’t reject them.

I don’t fight them.

I simply ask what they awaken inside me.

Do they soften my heart?

Do they help me understand myself and others more deeply?

I notice when my body tightens.

I notice when it relaxes.

I trust that my body speaks truth without words.

I observe human behavior without needing to correct it.

I see how fear creates distance.

I see how labels separate what is already connected.

And I choose understanding over resentment.

I honor my boundaries without anger.

I release expectations without bitterness.

I walk forward without carrying what no longer belongs to me.

Today, I do not need answers.

I do not need permission.

I do not need to prove anything.

I listen.

I soften.

I stay present.

Love does not divide.

Love observes.

Love allows.

And in that allowing, I continue to return to myself.

Yoruba Yogi