Over and over again in yoga yesterday, Sianna and Darren, in keeping with the weekend's theme, asked us what we were in service to. They spoke a lot about Gandhi and his eleven vows -- and the 11 was the foundation, not just of the price of the classes ($11/hour!) but also of the practice (11 different back bends). Gandhi and his followers were in service of the truth. How do we serve when we practice? What do we serve in our lives?
Clearly the question sank it.
But I didn't really realize it until I was in the shower just now and thinking about whether or not to go today, to the final in the series of classes. I was just thinking about going to the nursery and looking at plants that our bees would like, and of being in service to our bees. Whose lives are lived in service, really, to the needs of the hive.
And then I remembered how yesterday's class felt so much like being in the hive, surrounded by the thrum of all of the other happy bees in the room, held up and held together like members of one community, devoted to one end.
So of course I'll go today. Because on such a deep level, the practice is service, so it doesn't matter if I'm tired, if I'm a bit daunted. What matters is being there, doing my best, participating in this great service.
And could there be any better way to spend a Sunday?