Garland Pose
"I squat now, holding my hands to my chest, my arms a garland of flowers still blessed with dirt..." - from Garland Pose, by Corie Feiner
Hello yogis, poets, and seekers of inspiration!
A Little Story
When I was nineteen years-old, I sat on my mother’s living room floor with a bowl between my legs picking chicken from its bones. This was not an everyday occurrence, but there was no room at the table and we were preparing for a big event.
Her apartment was small, modern, but loftlike with its high ceilings and ceramic sculptures bolted to the walls. As I sat and squatted over the bowl, picking away, I suddenly realized that I felt, somehow, in my element, somehow at ease and natural like my body knew what to do. I asked my mother, “Why does this feel so good?”
My mother, who prided herself with having been an anthropology major before her sales and marketing days, answered, with confidence, “That is how we are meant to sit.” She peeled a carrot, placed it on a colorful platter, and proceeded to tell me all about how in hunter-gatherer tribes both men and women squat instead of sit and how strong …