Tuesday reflect

 

Tuesday — Daily Reflection

This morning I rose at five and went straight into my practice. At first, I questioned it, but my body gave me the answer. My spine is loosening, my strength is growing, and the lotus pose is calling me closer.

Six hundred push-ups, once a three-hour mountain, now take me about an hour and thirty-five minutes. That is no accident — it is discipline pulling me out of laziness. I now see that yoga is not for the lazy or the procrastinator. Yoga is honoring God, the Sun, the Moon, the Highest within me.

Even to warm up my spine requires five hundred push-ups, but that is where life begins — from the kundalini rising. My body is teaching me a miracle I can barely comprehend.

After my practice, I jogged to church. The scriptures they read reminded me that words are only temporary if we don’t realize the eternal truth: God is not outside of us. God lives in our veins, in our breath, in the physical temple of our body.

As I listened, a white bird landed nearby. I took it as a sign to be quiet, to pay attention, because this path is bigger than me.

Today I may have only ten dollars, but I woke up feeling like a billionaire. Wealth is not what’s in your pocket — it’s what you know in your soul. And I know I am living in a miracle.

As the day unfolded, I reflected deeper on forgiveness and what it truly means. Many people see forgiveness as paying back debts or clearing accounts, but real spirituality goes much deeper. True forgiveness is not about money or material comfort — it is about clearing the mind so the body can heal.

When illness or injury comes — a stroke, broken bones, a body that can no longer move — no amount of money or comfort can save you. I know this because I lived it. Divorce, immigration struggles, fear, and finally a stroke left me homeless, sleeping in parks. In that place, it was not comfort that rebuilt me — it was overnight yoga, breath, discipline, and the determination to rise again. That 109-mile run saved my life.

The body is the most amazing creation. When we forgive deeply and practice with patience, the body has the power to heal itself. My God of understanding is not found in money or external approval — my God of understanding is in my breath, in meditation, in rising before dawn, in walking, in pushing through pain, in honoring the Sun and the Moon within me.

True spirituality is not about replacement or comfort — it is about discipline, humility, and the courage to keep showing up.

And as night falls, one last truth rises: recovery is not about stories of the past. It lives in the way the body rises each morning, the way breath carries through movement, the way silence answers when it is honored.

Each day begins with stretching, breathing, moving — not because of a rule, but because the body asks, and the spirit replies. That rhythm itself is peace.

It is easy to stay tethered to what has already passed. But healing is not rehearsal. It is found in the step taken today, in the stillness that becomes prayer, in the discipline that feels like love.

There is no instruction here, only a reflection of what life has revealed: when presence is lived, the sun and the moon respond. What is needed multiplies. A single honest act becomes enough, and enough becomes more than enough.

Recovery is not what is remembered. Recovery is what is lived now.