It should be pretty and inspiring or so I thought. The cover of the book had to tell all in one image. The painting from an image that I initially chose made me out to look a bit like a witch. My body looked awkward and contorted in yoga pose. The girl in the painting was not me. I told the painter that we need to start again.
After working on the book last night I noticed that the image was right. It was a reflection. We cannot always be powerful and poised. We hurt the ones we love and make so many mistakes. Our hands and arms feel bound in confusion yet we still look on to the path. The problem was the path I was looking toward was the past. It kept me locked.
Strength is not just looking pretty. It is enduring these ultimate lows. Will we continue being that which we are not, or will we look ahead and remember that we once had a dream. First yoga session in a long time this morning. My core was weak, arms stretched and I reached up. At first disappointed at my level, I kept at it and relaxed at the end. The trick in yoga is to push, while letting go.