Everyday Namaste

“What is that word you just said?”
The yoga teacher said, “Namaste.”
“How do you spell that?” he asked.
She spelled it for him.
“What does it mean?
“It means the light in me sees and recognizes, the light in you.”
“That one word means all that?”

“Yep,” she said.

I would have given the same answer. I HAVE given that same answer. Hundreds of times.

It’s funny when you hear your own words coming from someone else, it’s as if you are hearing them for the first time.

I decided I don’t like that explanation of “Namaste” anymore.

Here’s my revision:

“Namaste” means this:
You know how somedays you are happy and other days not so much?
You know how some days you are pissy and disappointed in the world and other people?
You know how you feel when people fink out on you? Or die on you and abandon you? You know how you feel when you get sick? You know how you feel when you wake up in the night in a cold sweat thinking that you are going to die someday?
You know those other days when the sky is blue and everything is just perfect?

When I say “Namaste” to you, I bow to all that because guess what?

It’s the same for me.

“Namaste” means, “I see your life, and I get it, and you,  because you are basically the same as me.”

You? Me? Underneath it all, we are dealing with the same shit. Everyday.


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