I am attempting crow pose. I am hunched over, my shins pressing deeply into my upper arms. My tippy toes and hands are the only things binding me to the earth. The goal is to get the toes off the floor and balance on the hands.
“Go forward. More,” exhorts my teacher. She is trying to pull me to the edge, a new reality of what is possible. My brain resists. I do not want to fall on my face. I’ve done it before. It’s embarrassing and it hurts when the frames of my glasses cut into my flesh.
I am like the squirrel poised on the side of the road, hesitant, but the call of bounty on the other side of the road is irresistible. Nuts on the otherside. Freedom and fullfilment on the otherside whispers through my rodent brain.
My tail flicks, I put a paw down on the asphalt and pick it up. Down and up, down and up, like a furry wind up toy. I’ve seen it happen many times. You make a break for it and get squished by a truck. Did those squirrels think they were different in the last second before their brains were dashed from their heads by the unseen oncoming traffic? What is coming around the blind corner now? The whisper of possiblities turns into a compelling command that I cannot ignore.
“Go forward. More.”
I gather myself, every sinew in my body pulling in. Then pushing out, toes coming off the floor, I fly into space, reaching for the unknown.