Yoga Life

Tony Lupinacci

I don’t always know all the reasons that I’m propelled on this spiritual journey but I do know that there’s a mysterious pull inside of me to remember. Around age 9, I remember looking up at the expansive desert star scape of Utah and the Rocky Mountains framing them. I became fascinated with the cosmos, I lingered in fantasies that I’d be sucked up into the light filled abyss and wrapped in some sort of endless embrace. I wanted to Escape from my alienation and loneliness. I didn’t know it at the time but I think that was the beginning of my spiritual search. This past summer, as I sat on the bedside of my dying grandmother I was able to bear witness the vail of this reality thinning, I saw her in her most true form. Angelic, childlike and almost free. She was always a guardian for me and in this moment I was one for her too. I held her hand, sang to her, encouraged her to lean in and to surrender to love. I’ve learned that grief isn’t a black hole of sorrow but rather a North Star toward a new me, A doorway to deeper states of truth and forgiveness. Through moments of sorrow and heartache an angel in the form of a practice has appeared to hold my hand on this journey. A trustworthy friend to bring me back to the present and open me up to mystery. Not to become someone else or to fix anything but to remember who I really am, who we really are. These thoughts and words are inspired by my granny, by inner child, by Jack kornfeld and by Amy Jordan Jones