I fell apart and was put back together in this space; this sacred space.
I never ONCE did yoga on this terrace.
I breathed deeply on it though, inhaling the clouds and the thin, crisp air with my lungs as the piercing fushia danced on my vision like confetti.
I pleaded with the volcanoes to raise me up on their jagged peaks.
It mostly happened here.
I’ve been so many places, but this was my most epic journey.
Alone, and connected to the infinite love of the universe. I loved and let go of everyone here, including my own ego.
I surrendered to not knowing and trusting anyway.
I gathered love from my deepest, darkest places and sent it out to everyone I have hurt and been hurt by.
Then I let them all go, with love, respect and gratitude for every teacher who has crossed my path.
I allowed myself to be healed.
I admitted my incapacity, my emptiness.
I faced myself.
I let myself go.
In this sacred space where I never did yoga.
I was given the glimpse of the truth, and it is magnificent.