As a former dancer when I look at, or think about, tree pose I think it should be something that I can fairly easily achieve. However, it is one pose that continues to elude me. In my zen morning routine I purposely and carefully move through my preparations, hug my knee gently to my chest, visualize the most beautiful tree I could possibly form and ever so carefully place my foot into my opposite thigh imagining my success as I take my arms overhead.
Perhaps it the size of my feet (modest size 12s) that unsuccessfully try to find their resting spot against my upper thigh, only to be foiled by the viscosity of my yoga pants that laugh at the sight of my foot and audaciously guide it back down to the earth. Or perhaps it is my inflexible knee that giggles at the thought of folding itself to such a degree and lovingly, and somewhat swiftly, brings me, or my foot, back down to reality.
I shall not be dissuaded.
Dear Tree Pose,
You cannot dissuade me. I guffaw in your general direction. My tree will someday stand tall with the most killer roots and lengthy boughs. A glorious and whippy willow I will be. For now I may be only a sapling with shaky branches, clumsily dancing in the wind, but each day is a new day and with each day my roots will deepen.
This is my promise.
For now, I will thud on. Loudly. And joyfully. Ha!