loving what you love.

My yoga teacher read part of this poem in class the other day.  For some reason, when a yoga teacher reads poetry while I'm practicing asanas, the words seep in further, all the way to the bone.  Poetry usually seeps into my cells anyway, so this is powerful for me.  

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes

over the prairies and the deep trees

the mountains and the rivers

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clear blue air

are heading home again

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely

the world offers itself to your imagination

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things

-mary oliver

(I am even feeling thankful I grew up in a place with Wild Geese)