I have been on my mat severely hungover from a night of partying, and simply showing up for the Yoga class was a heroic event of determination. I have been on my mat holding back tears from a broken heart, soul, grieving intoxicating loss or shattered dreams gone awry (and yes, those tears ...
So here we are, in the dark of the night, swimming in the moon rays. Here we all are -- you, me, the Boys and Girls Who Lived, carrying, always, the last living fragments of our own attempted murderers, and remembering, if we can, that it is not our abilities that make us who we are, but our choices.
“Help,” I thought, looking around to others, “I need a tourniquet. Can’t you see my friend is dying?” But as I search the familiar faces around me, I realize they are all bleeding out in their grief. There isn’t enough triage in the world to save you from this pain.