Early February 2015
It's midnight. Probably past midnight. I'm in bed. My mom is beside me. No words are exchanged because there's no point. There's nothing to say anymore. No more questions to ask. No more tears. It's just the two of us in silence. And despite my pride, I am grateful that she's with me in this bed. I'm too old for this. Too old and mildly ashamed by the brokenness in this place. I know how it happened- there's no mystery there. And, there's shame because I know the broken pieces are here because it was me who broke them.
I'd asked for all of this...and now, manifested, I'm not sure I expected it all to go down quite like this. I see, now, the power of the things we wish for, the reality of manifestation.
I cannot begin to formulate a plan, now, because I can't see past the broken pieces. There are just too many. And the harder I try to formulate reason, the more stuck I am in this place.
Valentine's Day 2015
I'm packing up my things. It's Valentine's Day and I'm packing my life up in boxes. He's not here, thank God, and I have some space to let this sink in. Not just this but the whole of everything. I have not cried yet, today. I'm too swept up in the reality of the need to get my things sorted and packed. Boxes are piling up and I can't believe this is my journey, now. I will not see him for any other version of "goodbye" and I know that's okay because I did this.
I broke it.
They say it takes two to Tango- but it only takes one to break it all apart.
Trust me.
Just one.
The two part only matters when you're dancing.
When there's no more dancing- that's when it only takes one.
And so, the boxes are packed. The house is cleaned. Beers are consumed and I take moments to sit in this house, one last time. In front of the sweet stove, where we had our first fire. I was so excited to feel the chill in the air knowing this stove was around. I sit on the porch swing, in the back, recalling happier times when I couldn't wait to walk back in to the space that we'd created. And now, I just wanted to run as fast as I can, from this place.
Late February 2015
Is it possible that yoga can actually save your life?
No. I mean, really. For real.
I think it can because these classes are what give me my breath back.
I'm not sure why I cry most of the time in Savasana but I do. In the calm, just a small sadness because I cannot lose it, totally, with all of these people here. But I cry most times, in this posture.
We come to a simple seated posture, Sakhuasana. And hands to heart, thumbs moveto lips, so that we are reminded to always speak in kindness. Thumbs to forehead, so that we are reminded to think thoughts of kindness, not just to those around us but also...to ourselves. We close the practice with three Oms: once to the world, once to those in our circle and one last time, to ourselves, expressing gratitude for having practiced because when all is said and done, this practice makes us better people.
This practice makes us better people.
So that we can be better to people, in return.
I want to teach yoga.
The thought wont let go. I am still on the mat as people are shuffling to get out. Mats are rolled and blocks are placed in stacks. The blinds are draw, letting in the light and footsteps are gently pressed against the wood paneling of the floor. This has become one of my most favorite sounds, these feet on the wood. Like rain against a window pane. I love this sound. But the thought is still swimming up there.
I want to teach yoga.
I can teach yoga.
I will teach yoga.
My last day, at my job, was April 3rd, 2015. In May, I would venture off to an intensive, month-long yoga teacher training immersion program.
And it would change everything.
The training was to be held locally, though I'd be camping for over 30 days straight. I was fearless at the onset, having no idea what I was getting myself into. I was moving to an Ashram for over 30 days. Some folks wore all yellow. Some folks wore all orange. Lots of folks wore yellow and white and I wondered, for a minute, if I'd stepped in to a cult.
Had I done some research about Ashrams, I may not have been so side-lined, I may have prepared myself more appropriately. But I'd jumped in, with no prior experience at an Ashram and have decided, I am better off for it.
The second week was, by far, the most challenging, emotionally- and I wasn't alone. It became clear that no one really comes to know yoga when their life is perfect. Most of us met yoga when we'd needed it most, in the darkest of places. Yoga has a funny way of knowing that about you, ahead of time. One day I 'll write a book about what leads folks to yoga, and I can promise you, Reader, that it will be tales of woe that led us to this practice. Most of us find yoga because we need what it is, not because we feel amazing in really cute yoga pants and have (finally) found a place where we can finally show off the fact that our back fat's receded and the pretty pink sports bra we just bought accentuates our well-defined back muscles.
Yoga is no joke, my friends. It will push you to places that are really uncomfortable, not just physically. Yoga is not just about learning to contort your body in to positions you once thought unattainable. Yoga is this world, filled with community, strength, meditation, a search for refining yourself and somehow it makes you want to actually BE a better person. It makes you stronger. It rebuilds your foundation. It refocuses energy. And it you're lucky enough, it connects you to a community with whom you can share histories, passions, transgressions, humiliations, sorrows and that same community will assure you that you are just fine- and that you were always just fine. It's just that you just had some lessons to learn. And when you find the right spot, the right studio, the right community, you will explode in to BEING.
You will explode in to the being you were all along but lost...just for a time.
The right community will help guide you through a really uncomfortable transition and they will support this blossoming of personage. They will be your support. They will make you want to be a better version of yourself.
Teacher Training wasn't easy and it certainly wasn't always pretty. But it was necessary- and I go so far as to say that this group of people, this Tribe of mine, helped redefine some purpose for me. They gave me my light back. They gave me my breath back. The teachers gave me my foundation back.
I love this silly and profoundly beautiful group of people. YOU changed my life- and I am better off because of you. Sivakami, here is the letter I was never brave enough to read, aloud, to you all:
Dear TTC Family (Teacher Training Course),
We teach others. Actively be the bliss you seek. Teach others the tools first, and then lead them to practice. Instill in students the practice and then support them on the journey. BE that journey. You will fall sometimes. And you will be tempted, but stay the course. BE the example. BE the person you so wish you could be. Just decide. Just do it. What do you have to lose? You've tried other personalities. Other strengths, and they've failed you, so quiet the external noises and the focus of your intention to be the person you admire. BE the person whose heart melts yours. Be Him. Be Her. I'm telling you. Just decide to be that person. Make the conscious effort.
Perhaps, when you arrived here, you were broken, like me. Or perhaps, you were cracked and this journey broke you open, like me. We must break in order to be healed.
I love you,
Omkari
It's midnight. Probably past midnight. I'm in bed. My mom is beside me. No words are exchanged because there's no point. There's nothing to say anymore. No more questions to ask. No more tears. It's just the two of us in silence. And despite my pride, I am grateful that she's with me in this bed. I'm too old for this. Too old and mildly ashamed by the brokenness in this place. I know how it happened- there's no mystery there. And, there's shame because I know the broken pieces are here because it was me who broke them.
I'd asked for all of this...and now, manifested, I'm not sure I expected it all to go down quite like this. I see, now, the power of the things we wish for, the reality of manifestation.
I cannot begin to formulate a plan, now, because I can't see past the broken pieces. There are just too many. And the harder I try to formulate reason, the more stuck I am in this place.
Valentine's Day 2015
I'm packing up my things. It's Valentine's Day and I'm packing my life up in boxes. He's not here, thank God, and I have some space to let this sink in. Not just this but the whole of everything. I have not cried yet, today. I'm too swept up in the reality of the need to get my things sorted and packed. Boxes are piling up and I can't believe this is my journey, now. I will not see him for any other version of "goodbye" and I know that's okay because I did this.
I broke it.
They say it takes two to Tango- but it only takes one to break it all apart.
Trust me.
Just one.
The two part only matters when you're dancing.
When there's no more dancing- that's when it only takes one.
And so, the boxes are packed. The house is cleaned. Beers are consumed and I take moments to sit in this house, one last time. In front of the sweet stove, where we had our first fire. I was so excited to feel the chill in the air knowing this stove was around. I sit on the porch swing, in the back, recalling happier times when I couldn't wait to walk back in to the space that we'd created. And now, I just wanted to run as fast as I can, from this place.
Late February 2015
Is it possible that yoga can actually save your life?
No. I mean, really. For real.
I think it can because these classes are what give me my breath back.
I'm not sure why I cry most of the time in Savasana but I do. In the calm, just a small sadness because I cannot lose it, totally, with all of these people here. But I cry most times, in this posture.
We come to a simple seated posture, Sakhuasana. And hands to heart, thumbs moveto lips, so that we are reminded to always speak in kindness. Thumbs to forehead, so that we are reminded to think thoughts of kindness, not just to those around us but also...to ourselves. We close the practice with three Oms: once to the world, once to those in our circle and one last time, to ourselves, expressing gratitude for having practiced because when all is said and done, this practice makes us better people.
This practice makes us better people.
So that we can be better to people, in return.
I want to teach yoga.
The thought wont let go. I am still on the mat as people are shuffling to get out. Mats are rolled and blocks are placed in stacks. The blinds are draw, letting in the light and footsteps are gently pressed against the wood paneling of the floor. This has become one of my most favorite sounds, these feet on the wood. Like rain against a window pane. I love this sound. But the thought is still swimming up there.
I want to teach yoga.
I can teach yoga.
I will teach yoga.
My last day, at my job, was April 3rd, 2015. In May, I would venture off to an intensive, month-long yoga teacher training immersion program.
And it would change everything.
The training was to be held locally, though I'd be camping for over 30 days straight. I was fearless at the onset, having no idea what I was getting myself into. I was moving to an Ashram for over 30 days. Some folks wore all yellow. Some folks wore all orange. Lots of folks wore yellow and white and I wondered, for a minute, if I'd stepped in to a cult.
Had I done some research about Ashrams, I may not have been so side-lined, I may have prepared myself more appropriately. But I'd jumped in, with no prior experience at an Ashram and have decided, I am better off for it.
The second week was, by far, the most challenging, emotionally- and I wasn't alone. It became clear that no one really comes to know yoga when their life is perfect. Most of us met yoga when we'd needed it most, in the darkest of places. Yoga has a funny way of knowing that about you, ahead of time. One day I 'll write a book about what leads folks to yoga, and I can promise you, Reader, that it will be tales of woe that led us to this practice. Most of us find yoga because we need what it is, not because we feel amazing in really cute yoga pants and have (finally) found a place where we can finally show off the fact that our back fat's receded and the pretty pink sports bra we just bought accentuates our well-defined back muscles.
Yoga is no joke, my friends. It will push you to places that are really uncomfortable, not just physically. Yoga is not just about learning to contort your body in to positions you once thought unattainable. Yoga is this world, filled with community, strength, meditation, a search for refining yourself and somehow it makes you want to actually BE a better person. It makes you stronger. It rebuilds your foundation. It refocuses energy. And it you're lucky enough, it connects you to a community with whom you can share histories, passions, transgressions, humiliations, sorrows and that same community will assure you that you are just fine- and that you were always just fine. It's just that you just had some lessons to learn. And when you find the right spot, the right studio, the right community, you will explode in to BEING.
You will explode in to the being you were all along but lost...just for a time.
The right community will help guide you through a really uncomfortable transition and they will support this blossoming of personage. They will be your support. They will make you want to be a better version of yourself.
Teacher Training wasn't easy and it certainly wasn't always pretty. But it was necessary- and I go so far as to say that this group of people, this Tribe of mine, helped redefine some purpose for me. They gave me my light back. They gave me my breath back. The teachers gave me my foundation back.
I love this silly and profoundly beautiful group of people. YOU changed my life- and I am better off because of you. Sivakami, here is the letter I was never brave enough to read, aloud, to you all:
Dear TTC Family (Teacher Training Course),
We teach others. Actively be the bliss you seek. Teach others the tools first, and then lead them to practice. Instill in students the practice and then support them on the journey. BE that journey. You will fall sometimes. And you will be tempted, but stay the course. BE the example. BE the person you so wish you could be. Just decide. Just do it. What do you have to lose? You've tried other personalities. Other strengths, and they've failed you, so quiet the external noises and the focus of your intention to be the person you admire. BE the person whose heart melts yours. Be Him. Be Her. I'm telling you. Just decide to be that person. Make the conscious effort.
Perhaps, when you arrived here, you were broken, like me. Or perhaps, you were cracked and this journey broke you open, like me. We must break in order to be healed.
I love you,
Omkari
I love this. Thank you for sharing a bit of your story. I've loved hearing the bits and pieces of your life transformation. Keep them coming.
ReplyDeleteThank you for your blog. I enjoy reading your writing immensely. From sunny Australia
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