Days pass, the season shift and for many people moods change. Where I live, the snows are receding. A nearby soccer field holds an ice rink throughout the winter. Now the strong sunshine of spring melts the ice leaving a puddle patchwork. Here and there the skin of ice permits last autumn’s grass to bravely face sky. Alongside a fence, the tenderest green shoots of crocus thrust up from the crumpled wet soil.

Spring sleeps inside winter. Patient and quiet.

Inside all of us Hope lives. As we come to our Yoga mat, and settle into stillness of body and mind at the beginning of class, I notice many students softly, subtly smile. They  have found the inner glow of their Light and it radiates from them.

Beneath the surface, the answer lies and it is Love.

It is always Love.

 

Namaste.

Advertisements