Sunday reflection

 Sunday Reflection

Living in the Moment

This morning I rose at 2:55, and by 3:00 I was on my yoga mat. My practice today was about one thing—being in the present moment.

Every time thoughts tried to enter, I returned to my breath—breathing into my body, praying into my veins, and looking up at the stars to connect with the universe.

It felt like being in the mud. And when you’re in the mud, you don’t dwell on how you got there—you focus on how to get out. The only way forward is through the present moment.

The past doesn’t excite my mind, and the future will arrive in its own time. What excites me is the now—the breath, the body, the silence, the prayer.

With gratitude, I step into this day, heading to church with peace in my heart.

Being Myself in the Present

Today I remembered again what it means to simply be myself. And for me, being myself means staying rooted in the present moment.

Presence is not easy—it demands discipline beyond imagination. Yet in that discipline, shifts begin: tightness in my spine loosens, my body speaks of balance, and I realize that healing flows not only from yoga but also from how I eat, how I drink water, and how I listen.

The present moment has revealed something many find hard to accept: it is possible to live without the usual comforts. No smoke, no drink, no material excess. This path of self-mastery surprises others, but it brings a peace that possessions and substances never can.

To be present is to let pain dissolve, to allow healing to begin, and to discover who I truly am. To be myself is to live in the moment—always.

Teaching — The Discipline of Truth

What came to me today was the thought of colonization—not just of land, but of spirit. I see how people wear masks: titles, rituals, authority, loud voices. But when the third eye opens through yoga, meditation, and discipline, those masks fall away. You begin to see the hunger for power where humility should be, the preaching without practice, the noise without silence.

I met a man who was high, speaking recklessly. I did not shame him. I gave him respect and a challenge: walk with discipline for 33 days, then show me your change. That is how I teach—not by condemning, but by placing the responsibility in the hands of the seeker.

I see how one habit often replaces another. Leave one comfort, and another quickly fills its place—overeating, self-importance, control. People can hold a holy book and still ignore the cravings that enslave them. They can speak of healing while their spirit remains restless.

Compassion, though, is the foundation. I do not judge the woman who asks for money. I do not claim to know her story. I give what I can without condemnation. But I also refuse to soften the truth: honesty with self is not easy, yet it is the only doorway to freedom.

I have lived this discipline. I rise early. I practice daily. I choose a life free from substances and excess. Through this, I have become a teacher—not by title, but by action. Even if overlooked because of skin or accent, my life speaks louder than words.

I continue because the next generation needs healing deeper than the old ways—healing that includes food, consciousness, prayer, and daily practice.

So I will keep going. I will see through the masks, speak from experience, act with compassion, and teach through the discipline of truth.

Peace.