My long way to Yoga

I grew up in a world which doesn’t exist anymore. I’m not writing it with a nostalgia. If it existed, I surely wouldn’t be here today and it surely wouldn’t be me, but somebody completely different, who would be sitting somewhere else in the world doing something different than writing these words.

I’m happy that that world doesn’t exist anymore. But, writing that, I’m not feeling bitter about that lost world either. The environment I grew up in gave me what I wouldn’t have gotten if I had grown up under different circumstances. It gave me experiences which are very precious to me.

One of these experiences happened in a summer when I was 13 or 14—I don’t remember exactly. My uncle was undergoing his spiritual transformation and I loved sitting with him and listening to him. His path brought him also to yoga, which was something completely unknow in our world at that time. That summer he was challenging me with various poses and I realized that yoga was something I would like to understand more.

The spiritual path of my uncle has developed, and I continued loving sitting with him and listening. But there were no other summers with yoga poses. I grew up, the old world disappeared and I had to wait for more than 25 years till my yoga journey has really started.

My uncle is almost 85 now. I don’t have many opportunities to sit with him and listen. But last time when I visited him and told him about my yoga journey. He gave me the precious material he still had from that forgotten time. So interesting to read it and see how times have changed. Only one hasn’t changed—the yoga poses.