Mindful Monday: Trust the Path, Man. (At least that’s what I’m telling myself.)
Have you ever embarked on a fairly major life change/event without giving it much thought? Because you just knew it was the right thing to do? Well, up until a few weeks ago, I can honestly say I had not. Nope, for I am a Planner, hear me roooaaaaaar. I think about plans and planning and how to plan for some more plans in the upcoming planning period.
So, you know I’ve been dabbling in yoga over the past year or so – I talked about it here and I STILL re-read your comments on this post, and I have to admit, it’s been a very on-and-off affair. Many of you told me that finding the right class and, most importantly, the right teacher was paramount, and (OF COURSE) you were so right. You see, up until a month or so ago, I sought out yoga classes that appealed to the Sarah of Yore – Vinyasa flow and heated classes with a relatively challenging pace filled with lovely young, fit men and women, but the problem was…well, I was dealing with new physical limitations. However, I would attempt to “power through” and end up with the same results again and again. Those results being a slew of injuries.
(When I will I ever learn? GAH.)
My ego took the reigns for a bit until I was sidelined with a hamstring insertion tear for a solid few months earlier this year. At that point I began practicing restorative yoga only, even though I couldn’t even get my legs up the wall due to my injuries and general awesomeness. I visited physical therapists and energy workers and all sorts of (I like to call them) body helpers, and the most frustrating part of the process was that they ALL recommended yoga. “Have you tried yoga?” DON’T YOU KNOW THAT’S HOW I GOT HERE, BODY HELPER PEOPLE?!
I decided to give up on yoga early this summer. I figured it just wasn’t for me and my temperamental body. I was bummed, though, because I had come to really enjoy learning about the yogic way of life. I wanted to love yoga…why didn’t it love me back?
Fast forward to our move to Oklahoma. I hadn’t even been back for a week when a friend recommended a therapeutic yoga instructor for me to check out. To be honest, on paper, the yoga studio itself wasn’t a favorite. The location was on the other side of town, and (once again) my ego reared its head. “A ‘therapeutic’ yoga class would be too simple and boring! That’s not what you need!” However, I drove to the studio and decided to keep an open mind about it all.
The minute…no, the second I walked in and met the owner/instructor I knew I had found my studio. She sat with me while I told her everything about the past year and a half, and just listened with such compassion. She confirmed what I already knew – that I had come to the right place. What’s that you say? Awwww yeahhhh, it’s healing time.
The classes have been nothing short of amazing, and completely different than any studio I’ve visited before. You know all those books I devour and regurgitate to you on Mindful Mondays? The classes are like living through those books and principles – gentle, therapeutic yoga poses with props, but mixed with a wide range of other practices – meditation, visualization, spiritual readings, and occasionally EFT (tapping) and Tibetan singing bowls. Every day brings something new, and it’s been nothing short of tremendous for me, physically and spiritually.
A few weeks ago, my instructor told me about the RYS 200-hour teacher training commencing at her studio this month, and asked if I had ever considered such a thing. And to be completely honest, embarking on a year-long yoga teacher training had never crossed my mind. Like. Ever. I politely declined, and went on my merry way.
Except that, you guys, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Could I do something like that? Surely not NOW, I thought. I mean, for starters, I just moved halfway across the country, my health situation is uncertain, we haven’t even moved into our house yet, we need to acclimate as a family, yada yada yada. Seriously, I could come up with 550 reasons why I most definitely should not apply.
So yeah. I’m doing it.
If there is one thing I’ve learned this past year, it’s to trust your gut. Although still hard for me to do, when you turn down the volume of your fear and coulda/woulda/shoulda, your instinct will make itself known, and it’s usually dead on. It’s going to be an amazing and challenging journey of learning, sharing, and self-reflection. Not gonna lie – I shed many tears at our first workshop (ALL OF THE EMOTIONS WERE FELT), and although it’s an incredibly vulnerable position to put yourself in…to literally let your heart open up and gush out in front of 27 people…it’s so necessary. For me, at least. I’m tired of pushing all the grief and fear and uncertainty down into the pit of my stomach, and ready to embrace all of the imperfection. This goes far beyond the physical practice of yoya. Like I’ve said before, and totally witnessed firsthand in the workshop, we are ALL struggling, and the best way we can to get through it is to embrace our connection to each other and the world around us.
So, yeah. Woot woot and Namaste and all that goodness.
image credit: elephant journal