Greetings Reader,

My body has officially arrived at the threshold of old age.

It’s a good thing I’m not my body.

Don’t get me wrong: I feel fine, physically and mentally.

But facts are facts: the time I have left in this body won't be nearly as long as the time I’ve already spent in it.

Well, sort of.

The body I’m in now isn’t the same one I was in just a few years ago.

To say nothing of the one I was in 50 years ago. None of us actually stays in the same body for very long.

Human bodies are composed of about 37 trillion cells. Most of them regenerate every 7 to 10 years. Some take 15 years or more. And some stick around for the whole ride (the idea that they all get replaced over the course of 7 years is a popular misconception).

But here’s the thing: despite my having reached the far side of the cell regeneration bell curve, deep inside, I still feel like a young man — the same young man I once was.

Or still am? Kind of?

In a sense, I’m still the same person. I still have many of the same psychological predispositions, I still stand and squint and sneeze the same way, and I’d still rather listen to Pink Floyd than Bob Dylan (I’ve never understood why anyone likes Bob Dylan).

At the same time, remembering my life as a young man feels like a recollection of a previous life.

That’s because the most essential thing — the “me” in me — that had the experience of being a young man is the same spark of individual consciousness that’s aware of who I am in the here and now.

This is the first and foremost teaching of yoga wisdom: we are eternal spiritual beings composed of pure consciousness, not these temporary bodies composed of insentient matter.

The older I get, the easier it is for me to relate to the analogy Krishna’s uses to explain this idea in the Bhagavad Gita:

There are many bewildering things in this world, death being the most bewildering of all.

And rightly so. The reason death seems so unnatural is because it’s not natural; it’s an artificial imposition on consciousness, which is changeless and eternal by nature.

This is why one of my teachers calls death “the illusion of non-existence.”

However much time I have left, I’m sure I’ll want more whenever it runs out, even though I’m convinced that I’ll get more on the other side — as much as I need to take care of any unfinished business.

Meanwhile, I’ll make it my business to make as much progress along the path of yoga as I can. Material bodies may come and go, but progress on the path of yoga is forever:

Wishing you all good fortune,

- Hari-k

P.S.: Correction to my calendar dyslexia: The correct dates for my mini-course on the Yoga Sutras are next Saturday and Sunday, February 14th & 15th and the following Saturday and Sunday, February 21st (not the 12th - DOH!) & 22nd. This 4-part course is for yoga teachers and serious practitioners. CLICK HERE for complete information and enrollment.

P.P.S.: Check out the latest episode of Francesca Cervero's excellent podcast: In this episode — The Yoga Teacher's Guide to Fighting Fascism — you’ll hear about the dharma teachings she's depending on and teaching, her recommendations for how to address current events in your yoga classes, all the organizations she's following and working with, and how she balances activism work with full time working parenting, plus LOTS of resources in the show notes. It's great episode - CLICK HERE to listen.