But then, something so very subtle caught my eye. In this brief interruption I was offered a moment of clarity; of connection and continuity with what was beyond my perception when I was stuck in the flow of traffic.

"Don't be a tuul for Juul" a bumper sticker on the car ahead of me read. "Krave is nicotine crack," another read. "Juuling=niccotine= heart attacks, cancer, birth defects," read a third.

I never liked the notion of being a tool: some object for another to use and discard when I'm longer needed to fulfill their selfish endeavors; when some shiny and new tool that can deliver the goods without needing as much maintenance comes along to replace me.

This bumper sticker designer knew exactly which of my buttons to push!

But as I sat there contemplating the meaning of my existence and how manipulative Psychology and PR graduates can be with things like advertisements, I came back to the Yoga practice: how wonderfully applicable it can be to all kinds of scenarios throughout our lives and how grateful I am for the wisdom its afforded me thus far; what I will carry through my own practice as I navigate the wellness "industry."

In a word, what that moment offered to me that I was so grateful for can be best summarized by "presence."

It served as a reminder to PRACTICE presence so that I am more able to recognize when if what I am practicing is actually cultivating wellness, or if it is just trading off one poison for another to satisfy the desires of industry, the expectations of others, or even what I may think are the expectations of others; to recognize when I may be just going with the flow of traffic in the mind that might be impairing my ability to receive insight that would otherwise illuminate what was previously hidden; insight which would allow for me to have awareness of, and access to, a whole new dimension of my practice through realization and connection to myself and be that much more effective in delivering the benefits of wellness for myself and others.

With presence comes contentment; with contentment, patience; with patience, space; and with space, healing and growth.

With presence you can recognize the “Juul” for what it is; what it was, and allow yourself the space to say “no” to something that serves neither yourself or others when the salesman comes knocking on your door to tell you about some new product to remedy some past indiscretion or injustice responsible for a present ailment that will incur future repercussions.

With presence you become keenly aware of the possibility that the salesman may even be unaware of the ruse to which he or she is an accomplice or even that they may be a reluctant participant entrapped by feelings of helplessness to the momentum of the past and the forces of nature.

With this awareness you are thus able to ascertain how to appropriately treat the salesman, which could just as easily be someone getting in your face on the street as it would be a patient, a friend, a family member, an advertisement on your smartphone, or even a sticker on the back of a car; you become readily able to disparage any thoughts of your own that not only might not be entirely accurate, leading you into another mind stream of traffic to detract from the unfolding consciousness, but generate feelings and vibrations that are incongruous to your own being.

To again, put it simply, what this brief respite from the grind of traffic brought me back to was how powerful it can be to pause and take a breath; how we can begin to live lives that are less despondent and aloof, always grasping for what comes next or longing for the past, and begin to live with more abundance, joy, and responsiveness by bringing our awareness back to what resonates with us, establishing that which resonates as the intention, and working as best we can to visualize the realization of that resonance in our lives and acting it out.

In this way, as the excess noise is whittled away it feels less like a painful loss and more of blissful embodiment.

Presence presents the capacity to pull over to the side and allow the person riding your bumper flipping you off because he thinks you are driving too slow, to pass; it enables you to do so with kindly wave without wishing ill will or taking it upon yourself to keep this person from driving faster than you think appropriate.

If and when you see the person down the road pulled over by a cop or in an accident, presence allows you to be mindful of your own thoughts and feelings, having compassion for the person despite recognizing the cause, knowing that to have anything other than this wouldn't serve anyone; compassion that the man was so enamored with his own agenda he missed his bumper sticker moment.

Presence allows you to not necessarily be coaxed into following suit when you see that the man speeding apparently got away with his crime because you are able to recognize that YOU have no need to speed and that maybe speeding was something he had to do; a risk he had to take.

With regard to my own practice, I find myself constantly running into the same challenges but in different packaging, which is why I am so grateful to have moments of presence that help me to recognize the challenge when it presents itself; to have a practice of cultivating presence; grateful to have a practice of compassion, otherwise I would really feel like an ass hole given my own lapses; otherwise I would miss out on so much experience by obsessing over my own agenda and holding myself to standards which aren't standard at all and all for some superficial reason of not appearing hypocritical, despite realizing I may be wrong given the impracticality discovered through new experience; attempting to fulfill goals which are unrealistic; which may not necessarily be “for the best.”

I am grateful for such challenges; such moments of stillness and presence because of what they bring to my practice: they bring greater wisdom that, while sometimes born through strife, conflict, and suffering, allows me to have a much more fulfilling life.

The sword of wisdom is a theme that resurfaces throughout all of the world's cultures, from England's King Arthur to the Buddhist Manjusri's Flaming Vajra Sword of Wisdom.

The sword being an effective weapon, adopted by many armies, made it a prime candidate for symbolic communication given its universal application, but even more so with regard to wisdom because of the kind of battle the sword lent itself to: precision, finesse, nuance, up close and personal.

It is Buddha who said “Let the wise man fight illusion with the sword of wisdom;” Jesus who said, “Think not that I am come to send peace on earth. I came not to send peace, but a sword.”

Thirteenth century Taoist Master Li Daochun explains the meaning of the sword of wisdom in detail:

Clearly Taoists hold the sword in high regard.

What this particular Taoist master noted about the secret of the sword and the materials from which it is fashioned coming from “receptive stillness” seams particularly apropos for my experience in my own practice, which this bumper sticker drama reminded me of in those brief few seconds in stillness at the red light; reliving a lifetime in moments.

There is an old saying in martial arts that says “to be skilled in saber techniques requires 100 days, to be skilled in saber techniques requires 1000 days, to be skilled in the straight double edged sword takes a life time.”

General Li Jinglin, famous Wudang sword master, said in one of his writings: “The key in sword practice is body moving like a dragon swimming, never ending at its end.”

What I have come to find in my own practice is that when we assert mastery over something; mastery over something that is an extension of ourselves, a being in constant change, we run the risk of falling out of balance and into disease as the mind gets stagnant while the body continues its march. The mind not rooted in the body becomes unstable as it branches out to explore; the body without connection to the mind becomes dull and stiff, absent the feedback needed to stimulate exercise of the areas in need. The mind must be tempered by the body, and the body sculpted through the skill of the smith, at least in so much as I can gather.

When titles such as “Master” are awarded to us by ourselves or others; when we think that we have mastered a certain skill or art, we run the risk of of having a sense of completion as opposed to accomplishment, which would seam to imply that the true Master knows that his work can never be perfected by himself or through the approval of others, and that any resolution or completion can only come through the acceptance of our limits and faith in the transcendent; through the loving embrace of the unknown; confronting the ignorance of today with an open heart and mind; mindful of potential pitfalls, doing our best to mitigate them but not chasing perfection so that we can maintain presence as opposed to obsessing over future risks that may never come to pass, or dwelling on past mistakes that bar us from remedying the present consequence without perpetuating the cycle; absorbing the force and momentum of the past and redirecting it so as to disarm an impending blow as a skilled swordsman might.

After expending immense effort and energy to dispel misconceptions to provide a sense of meaning and clarity to the product; to bring into balance the various elements and aspects to give form to the formless; after orienting yourself along the appropriate course and whittling down the excess, it can seam daunting to realize the art is never really complete; it can drive you crazy to find perfection always just out of reach, and the mere prospect of a continuous flow may seam exhausting, the antidote to some poison revealing yet another poison.

At the same time these realizations can be as liberating as they are damning. They can allow for ease in our relationships that allow them to develop ourselves and each other to such an extent never before dreamed or thought possible, and give new life to the next chapter by providing the space for the softness needed to make a fluid transition.

Having come full circle to a strange, yet familiar place in a story that began at a traffic light with the oh so subtle signs – and designs – presented by bumper stickers, and then wound its way through things Bruce Lee might say in an old kung fu flick, what better place to call this anthropomorphic rambling of man complete then now, after arriving at the understanding of incomplete completion!?

And so I will do just that, hoping you join me in the next chapter as I follow the wellness path that leads to lord knows where; sharing what I have learned in my studies of various disciplines to hopefully help others on their own wellness journey, sure to gather new insight in the process while keeping in mind that practice makes perfect! Let's practice together!

Ta Ta for now.