i find myself a corner to sit in an old sidestreet cafe named Likha Diwa.
“to create meaning”, the name of the place says.
i take my shoes off, and barefoot, squat on its handpainted floors, so close again to the earth.

just a day ago i celebrated spring time with loved ones in cool northwestern coastal rainforests. tonight i am back in warm tropical rains, with the city’s tricycles buzzing by.

surrendering to the warmth of the night, i extend both legs in front. i ground my seat down, and begin to sit tall. breathing slowly, gently, fully. lengthening my spine with an easy grace.

i quickly remember the curve at my lower back – how my body lazily sags towards the right side when not given attention. breathing in i gently draw my tummy in, tugging to straighten the lower spine, as the muscles around it begin to lengthen up.

the spine cannot grow with grace if the muscles supporting it are not strong,
not firm. both strength and tenderness, together. it is hard to enjoy the comforts of contentment, of patience, of peace, without an equal amount of courage to face and to struggle.

my body is not stretching on a rubber mat, but it remains rested, fully present, sitting in the corner of a cafe. not anymore on a vacation abroad, but back in the heart of difficult work. it doesn’t seem that i have to pick one over the other – it is in joining both rest and struggle, both strength and tenderness, that a graceful power begins to breathe.
Likha Diwa. where meaning is created.