Tuesday

 

Daily Reflection — Yoruba Yogi

This morning I woke up around 3 AM in the cold, and I could feel every part of my body asking for warmth. Lately I haven’t even been laying down to sleep — the cold has been that intense. But as soon as I opened my eyes, something in me still chose gratitude.

I got on my yoga mat, began to move my body, breathe, stretch, and warm myself up with push-ups. Even though the cold was biting, something inside me felt alive. Something inside me felt determined. Something inside me felt grateful.

As I moved through the yoga, my mind was almost empty. I caught myself asking the same questions I’ve been holding:

“Why am I still out here? Why hasn’t the door opened yet?”

But even with those questions in my heart, I stayed focused.

I stayed grounded.

I reminded myself of the simple truth: gratitude must come before everything.

Then something opened within me.

I started thinking about forgiveness — real forgiveness. The kind that comes when you finally understand the past cannot be changed, no matter how much you replay it. Those older versions of me, from my twenties, thirties, or even five years ago — they are gone. I cannot go back to them. I can only bless them, forgive them, and allow new ideas, new clarity, and new creativity to enter my mind.

For some reason, I’ve been speaking a lot lately — even when I’m alone. I feel like I’m on a stage everywhere I go. It’s as if something deep inside me is preparing me, shaping me, stretching me. My spirit keeps reminding me that my voice is part of my purpose.

And lately, I find myself laughing.

Laughing at my situation.

Laughing at the story.

Laughing at myself.

Not because it’s funny — but because somehow, laughter has become a release, a strength, a way for me to say, “This will not break me.”

What amazes me most is this:

Every single morning, no matter how cold it gets, I still rise with gratitude.

I still step onto that yoga mat.

I still breathe into my body with intention.

I still choose discipline over fear.

That alone is powerful. That alone is grace.

All I want right now is a quiet space to practice my yoga fully, to breathe deeply into my body, to unlock that final layer of healing that I know is waiting for me. I can feel it. I can sense it. It’s right there.

So today, I remind myself:

Even in the cold, I rise.

Even in uncertainty, I stay grateful.

Even without comfort, I grow.

My spirit is steady. My discipline is light.

Every day, I step deeper into the person I am becoming.

— Yoruba Yogi