In many ways, I am grateful to my dad for my yoga practice. He taught me from a very early age that there are other forms of spirituality besides those that are organized for us by churches and other institutions. While my mom took us to Sunday school, my dad would go to the creek (as he still does on almost every free occasion) to practice his religion - fly fishing. Communing with nature is for him the way to get closest to God - whatever that may be. He honors the fish by setting the free after he catches them. I imagine for him that the hours he spends on the water are as meditative if not more so than the moments that I spend on my mat. Unfortunately, fly-fishing doesn't appeal to me, but I have learned a lot from it and from my dad's "practice" of it.
So, this week, in honor of father's day, I will dedicate my practice to my dad in gratitude for teaching me to be open to other forms of spiritual devotion.