Yesterday I watched my daughter lay belly down on our backyard swing, wind-up the rope as tight as it would go and then let it loose, allowing her to twirl until the twisted rope let out and snapped her slightly back in the opposite direction—legs dangling in the wind all the while and laughter flowing from every fiber of her being.
It sure feels good to fly. It's one of the reasons I love yoga. It certainly does not happen every time I take to my mat. But, sometimes it does—that feeling of effortless levity.
It comes without warning: An exhale that merges perfectly with the apex of a pose. Hands rooted so firmly to the earth that feet float into flight. The indescribable vibration after the sound "om" from dozens of voices merging into one. In the sweetness of silence when mind slides into heart.
Swinging, yoga, gardening, writing, cooking, painting ... whatever your loves and passions are ... allow them to let you take flight.
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