I read of a man who stood to speak at a funeral of a friend. He referred to the dates on the tombstone from the beginning…to the end. He noted that first came the date of birth and spoke of the following date with tears but said what mattered most of all was the dash between those years. For that dash represents all the time they spent alive on earth and now only those who loved them know what that little line is worth. For it matters not, how much we own, the cars…the house

Sitting with Grief: The Sacred Practice of Presence Dear Yogis/Yoginis , Grief usually arrives like an unexpected ocean wave—sudden, overwhelming, pulling us under. Our instinct is to swim away, to escape to shore, to find any distraction that keeps us from drowning in its depths. But what if we could learn to float? The Invitation to Be Still On our mats, we can practice something radical: to learn to be present with discomfort. To hold a difficult pose and discover that