In all twists, there should be a feeling of dignity in the final pose—as though you are growing longer up through the center of the spine and out through the crown of the head.

We practice in an intelligent and disciplined manner in the service of truth. This ensures that the practices remain in the practical realm of relating to the world and other sentient beings in a joyful and unselfish way.

Prāṇa (with a capital P) refers to the internal breath as a whole.

When the mind is dominated by extreme mental or emotional imbalance, or if there are subtle levels of physical tension and resistance within the body, it is virtually impossible to truly surrender to the entirety of what is occurring and to fully examine (and possibly embrace) an opposing perspective.

Prāṇa links what you’re thinking and perceiving into its background. As embodied beings, all that we experience is processed through Prāṇa (breath) and citta (mind).

Most of the time, however, the citta wanders around, and the physiological background (Prāṇa) is less apparent in our awareness. In a contemplative practice, we take the attention (citta) and turn it straight to Prāṇa.

But especially when you are off-kilter, you must practice carefully and with a sense of surrender, of not knowing, and of starting over again and again. When approached in this way, the practice will often smooth out imbalances, especially if you practice “all day every day.”

and be with not knowing. It encourages us to show up ready and eager to meet whatever arises. Perhaps most important, it demands the mental and emotional agility to be comfortable with the paradox of simultaneously holding two or more points of view with equal attentiveness.

The buoyancy of the heart is so bright and distinct that the chin comes adoringly down as if to crown the heart. 4.