I just got back to my home in Mysore a few days ago, and this morning was the first time practicing back at the yoga shala.
Whenever I leave, I always make it a point to greet Sharath, my teacher, and express my gratitude for his teaching.
He always lights up whenever I do that.
What struck me today was how deep-felt my gratitude is in that moment when I greet him. Even though we had no interaction today, I'm endlessly grateful to him for holding the energy of the yoga so that I may step into that energy and learn from him.
To his grandfather for devoting more than 80 years of his life to purifying his soul and nurturing the tradition of yoga.
To his grandfather's teacher, Krishnamacharya, for resurrecting what was at that time an almost dead tradition and bringing it back to life and into the 20th century.
In that moment, when my body is full of life energy and vibration, as I'm leaving the shala at a quarter to 6 in the morning, my gratitude is deep and real, and I suspect Sharath senses that.