What Is It Like When Time Stands Still?

You ever look at something so vast, so astounding, so important and beautiful and personal that it feels nearly impossible to attach language?

Like, how do you describe the thunderous, awesome sound of waves crashing the beach when you’re the only one there?

How do you describe first sight of the gaping expanse that is the Grand Canyon?

How do you tell the story of the complete sense immersion and oneness felt while entwined with your beloved, out of doors and exposed, with eyes wide open and locked in, the sun warming hidden parts it doesn’t usually see?

What words can possibly convey the sensation felt in the moment of first recognizing – on the most cellular level – that your soul is part of the living, pulsing, universal fabric of all souls everywhere and throughout time?

How to tell someone what it’s like when time stands still?

This is my struggle when I try to describe… yeah, you guessed it… yoga. Try it, I say. Let it work it’s magic on you. But you really can’t understand until you’ve *experienced* it. My words can’t do it justice.

The best part is that you don’t have to be on the beach or at the Grand Canyon or standing on your hands to feel the awesomeness – although a scroll through Instagram might have you thinking otherwise. The magic of yoga can happen anywhere you’re able to shut off the outside world and drop into the cosmos within – in your living room, for example, with third-day hair and unbrushed teeth and yesterday’s sweatpants.

Yoga does not care what you look like or smell like or how tight your hamstrings are or if you’ve never done it before. Yoga asks only that you come, with an open heart, and breathe, and pay attention.

You do that and yoga will take it from there.

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