Intent, object and (im)permanence

 

I do not write to be read. I do not write for others  - that’s not the aim. I do it to clear my thoughts and not have to keep listening to a background inner voice.

Writing is like a raw transfer of the immediate content of my mind and at times of some drawer of my memory. The mind dump has the function of releasing it, like when pulling off a handbrake, so the mind can move on. Then, by fixing my thoughts in black and white in an accessible, non-private environment, I can give them a sort of physical, tangible consistency.

 

So, as for me, writing has the value one puts into it. It’s like all the activities we carry out and the "things" we do. They do not have a depth by themselves, an innate authority: we are the ones who put the value in them, because the value lies in the intent.

 

All this sh** just to say that I believe the same concept is applicable to yoga. A few days ago, on this matter I read an IG post by a true fellow ashtangi who, as usual, hits the mark with his clarity. Basically, he is wondering: what is this yoga? Perhaps all lies in asking ourselves what is the intention we "put in it". It will probably change over time and with the succession of our more or less superficial (immediately perceptible) or profound (hidden) needs. In any case, his tentative answer is that by asking ourselves this question, we will give our practice the chance of going in the direction of our needs.

 

And it is precisely by avoiding pigeonholing things – not plating them with a non-deformable armor that after all is only a hindrance - that we can at least imagine what our purpose is, however impermanent it may be.