At some point in the last year, I stopped sharing my story. But my story is the story of what I do, and why I do it. It is the story of Mamoga. So, here we begin again. Hello, there. Mama Yogi checking in.
My business has been shaped by tired hands. Hands that today are having a difficult time typing. Hands that today cannot open jars. Hands that today clumsily drop everything they touch. Tomorrow, it might be different. But today, I am weary. After spending the last 9 hours of my day hurting – physically, emotionally, and mentally – I come back to the “mat” (my desk being quite a mindful place). And here, I give complete thanks.
It is easy to be busy. To batter the body and the mind with the never-ending, self-created to-do list. To become energetically stuck, with a whirling and swirling in just one area. All thought. All emotion. All physicality. Yet suddenly, it is almost as easy for me to be present. That is what this bodily disharmony does for me. Something that so many others do not have the opportunity to experience. When the going gets tough, my body tells me: Stop. Breathe. Listen. Gratefully, I haven’t a choice. In past years, I didn’t either. But I kept going, with vital air stuck in the very tops of my lungs and my ears filled with cotton. And some of you bore witness to the earthquake thereafter.
Not this time. So, here I am. Breathing. Fresh air fills my belly. Bending. Moving into alignment with all the universe offers. Being. Honoring this present moment. Yes, Mama Yogi checking in and today truly Being Mamoga.