It is so tempting to move on, see what's next, shake it off, flow through, get it done. And sometimes the most glorious thing in the morning is to revel in the motion between poses, motion of the poses, the ebb... but mostly the flow.
But sometimes you find treasure buried in plain sight because you stop. You stop in a pose, you abide in a place: maybe it's a place in your body or in your heart or an edge. In abiding you learn to listen and attune your being to something greater than its parts, something exceeding the lengthening of a quad or even the inhale.
The pose becomes a container for quads and inhales as well as hamstrings and exhales, for internal conversations, usually whispered but suddenly heard with the clarity of crystal bells. The pose, or the space between poses when we choose to rest and listen, becomes a beaker like they use in laboratories, but it contains so much more than chemicals: it contains and reveals our worlds.
Today, try holding a pose, not your "favorite" but one you maybe "flow through" for 3 more breaths than usual; maybe more. Try remaining, abiding. See what peeks out from behind a tree in your body-mind when it figures out you're not just passing through. Greet it. Hold out a hand. Sit down. For just one more breath.