Hey you. Yes you over there. Wipe that anti-Semitic grin off your face. Your tide rising from the underworld of Great Consciousness. Should I see myself in you?

Listen. Listen so that these words seep into your blood. The way your great grandparents seeped ink into mine. Listen so the flash of your neurons fire in a way of New Consciousness. Maybe then you will understand.

Shall I live in vain? Shall I forsake my grandfather’s name? Shall I let you slowly pass fear as you rise back up again? Like the smoke with which you once killed my great aunts and uncles. My great grandparents burned by your falsity.

Shall I pretend your tide is not rising? Shall I look the other way. Read nothing. See only myself. Believe in the goodness of hopes and dreams left as whispers from my ancestors. Are you coming from me?

To be trapped. To be burned. To be hunted. Have we learned nothing? Have we forgotten so quickly—so easily? So fast the memories become tales of long ago. As if some allegory but no meaning after all.

The ink soon buried underground. A generation. The generation. Gone as God should have them. Not taken. Not snatched by you. The lucky ones. And triumphant ones. Sorrowful ones. Worried ones. Ones overjoyed by life’s enduring.

Shall we live in fear? Shall we live in malice? Shall we live in spite? Shall we be the generation that makes meaning? Shall we fight you to the death?

Perhaps I should tattoo the golden-blue star across my heart. Or better yet ink it on my arm. That ink runs deep you could-have-been friend.

When you come for me, you will know who I am. I will have been the one who said STOP. Who said WAIT. Who said listen. Not my GENERATION. Not our generation.

I will be the one with the good word emblazoned across the heart. Weeping for what you have done. Retreating your waters. Levees built through truth and memory. Buoys fashioned by reconciliation. Life-vests of radical acceptance.

For your sake. Because we are not forsaken.We are the hands of Gods mighty deliberation. 

I often jest that Boulder is the land of Almond Milk ad Raw Honey, where Coconut Manna falls from the sky. Back in Brooklyn Elliot and I have discovered one of the tastiest breakfasts, snacks, desserts possible. I am no expert but others tell me fruit is good for you. So is coconut so long as you are not allergic. I know the food combining experts wouldn't totally approve. But seriously, when it is hot as you know what and you sweat sitting because of the humidity in New York, you come to like this kind of thing. Maybe as much as putting your head in the freezer. Here in Boulder the temps are still so nice. But trust me people, you will be dying for the Manna on those hot summer days. I also really love this after doing yoga for a super long time.

Ingredients:

• 1 banana 
• Berries of your choice (I like raspberries
• Some kind of crunchy toping (i.e. cacoa nibs, almonds, walnuts, granola)
• Coconut butter
• Almond butter
• Pinch of salt.

Prep:

• In a bowl of small mason jar mash a banana.
• Add berries which can be fresh or frozen. (we actually usually use frozen)
• Add the butter.
• Sprinkle salt and toping of your choice.
• Shmush (thats like a mash) it all together.
• Get it in your mouth.

"Theming" classes has become common place in our yoga industry. A great theme can support students in learning asana. The poetic and mythic nature of a theme's expression stimulates the emotional centers of our brain. We actually learn really well this way. We remember what has meaning and so a theme that creates meaning linked with the movement being taught, creates some distinct and high voltage teachings.

Now, the peril of a theme includes, subtle covert manipulation, group think, and projection, just to name a few. Sometimes the best theme is no theme. Teaching asana is a rich skill. And is often enough.

And yet a theme can deepen our learning in beautiful ways. So, what to do?

This video will give you some insight into theming in a way the utilizes the way we think to support however we feel and teach asana. 

http://youtu.be/OmVCezcjlWc