This Yoga Journal story illustrates beautifully the practice of non-striving.

The Breath of Life ~ Evan Weselake

Buried under an avalanche, an avid backcountry skier finds that the one thing he can do is all that stands between him and oblivion.

There were 21 of us skiers zigzagging up British Columbia’s Mt. Traviata on that day last January. About a hundred feet from the mountaintop, the snow cracked open right in front of me. I thought it would just slough off across our track. Instead, the crack grew, and the world began to slide past my field of vision. In fact, it was the snow, carrying me and 12 others down the mountain.
“Avalanche!” I cried, louder than I will ever be able to yell again.
Seconds later, the ride had ended and I was buried amidst tons of snow. I couldn’t move but I could see some light, and I could breathe. A silence like none I’d ever heard enveloped me.
I was panting like a dog; the snow bound my chest and back so tightly that I couldn’t take a deep breath. Random thoughts flashed through my mind, including the worry that I was being crushed.
So I fought against the snow with my shoulders—and quickly lost all breath. Lack of air forced me to stop moving.
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via The Breath of Life | Yoga Journal.