Heart Full

I went back to Jivamukti this week. The venerable yoga studio, who’s price tag I feared would break the bank when I last reviewed them. My wallet did protest rustily as I paid for my class pack, but I’m eager to learn more about the studio that gave us vinyasa, its’ history, and the calm the teachers effortlessly exude.

The focus of the month at Jivamukti was “learning to be a master”, and although today’s class wasn’t the first class I’ve taken centered around this theme, none had resonated so deeply. The teacher asked if anyone was new to Jivamukti, a few hands; any students new to his class, mine along with other hands. He welcomed us with a smile. He asked us to think of a master, picture them in our mind, and consider why we admire them. A few candidates came to mind, my aunt for her compassion, Joshua for his dedication, Kristin for her fortitude, I couldn’t decide on one, so invariably they all whirled through my citta vritti (mind chatter).
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