When he was 7 years old, my son made this watercolor and ink drawing of Sage Patañjali, composer of the Yoga Sutras, a treatise on Ayurveda and Sanskrit Grammar. I almost sent it to Geetaji. He painted it green because I had told him once that it was her favorite color (big topic of conversation with 5 and 7 year old children), which I knew from trying to find a gift for her in Pune to say thank you and goodbye. Honestly, trying to buy an appropriate gift was a futile task, and my poor efforts made me feel ashamed. I also wrote her a letter and I hope I was forgiven for the meager gift.
There is nothing that can be bought that would sufficiently convey the depth of gratitude collectively felt for this woman’s efforts and devotion in the vast field of yoga. There is no adequate expression for what has been bequeathed.
What a magnificent life and gift she gave to the end
Devoted to yoga and to passing it on
There is gladness for her for her liberation
For us we have loss and we have a responsibility that grows heavier
There is yoga — all it’s glowing possibility and potential. That light doesn’t touch us until there is someone to teach us.
It takes a devoted sincere student, a human being, to realize it, explore it, open the subject up and out to everybody and work tirelessly endlessly to help others and pass it on. To sacrifice oneself for yoga. To be willing to die for yoga.
She asked us to read her father’s books. That would make her happy. They have been a great comfort to her. In reading them and in practice we will continue to discover the way forward and the way in
They are asking us to go deeper to go further. No more shallow spreading of yoga. Find the light in depths. Go beyond death. Don’t be attached to what is transient. Seek beyond what dies to find the deathless state.
In deep gratitude for Guruji and Geetaji
Who are not gone
Who are with us still
All my love