Man & Dog
Downward dog, the yoga pose. Rarely have I managed to generate a year-end letter, encapsulating highlights from the past 12 months, but I enjoy reading those of others. The barrier is mine: for reasons I don't know, I've always been disinclined to look backward. As a recent extended walk reminded me, I don't even like retracing my route during an out and back hike. Give me a loop any day. Rising from a nap, our dog Hutson demonstrates the pose effortlessly, paws outstretched, back arched, naturally bowing as his muscles wake and extend in an instinctual act of supplication. My imitation feels forced, despite my attempts, or perhaps because of them, to achieve a moment of expansion and weightlessness. The upward trajectory, from outstretched hands to hips, is deceptive. Only by firmly grounding the limbs can my body rise as I muster a coordinated, common effort that Hutson executes so fluidly. Like so many yoga poses, this one is deceptively simple. Lacking any particular contortions, it is nonetheless all-consuming. A year of modest accomplishments, I breathe, extend, attempt to find "space" within my body that previously, before planting hands and feet, felt immutable. Every time, this pose can inexplicably feel different despite striving to execute it the same. Nothing profound happens during the pose; evolution is slow and incremental. Sometimes I notice over time. Some unexpected changes come as a surprise and then seem obvious in retrospect. Others I work to achieve, for even a brief second, as dog, man and universe stretch toward some deeper release and intersection, call it joy or love, for which, as Hutson casually trots to the door, we are now better prepared.
