Earlier this week I found myself running down the stairs of my apartment building, barefooted and still in pajamas. I was frantically trying to find any building employee who might be able to stop the fire department from rushing to the building. Back in my unit, the alarms were screaming “Fire! Fire! Evacuate!”
But don’t worry dear readers there was no fire, just a lot of haze -- the result of perhaps too much oil left cooking in a pan for too long, in wait of eggs which I forgot to ever put into said pan. The alarms eventually turned off on their own with the aid of a fan and fresh air. Crisis averted.
As you can probably tell -- I’ve never been especially talented at cooking. But it’s something I’ve been working on this year (in baby steps). And progress has been significant – though to be fair it’s off of a low bar. I’m still limited to making mostly bland breakfasts and lunches. (Trust me when I say you don’t want to eat anything I prepare for dinner that involves more than heating it up). But I should be kind to myself. Afterall, I am the same person who, when asked by a friend a few years ago to cut up a tomato for some sandwiches, immaculately carved the tomato into 8 equal wedges as if it were an apple.
Learning new skills is hard, especially as an adult. And while I haven’t actually tried particularly hard to become a great chef this year– I have spent a lot of time learning more about yoga. And there, I feel like I have made more progress.
Especially coming out of my Baptiste Training in February, I felt absolutely lit up for anything yoga related. It was more than just how it made my body feel. For me, the physical movement (asana) was only one (and arguably the least transformative) part of the practice. What really shook me were the underlying philosophies, the meditation, and the inquiry work. At that moment in my life, when I felt equal parts victim and irredeemable idiot, it was exactly what I needed to begin my healing journey. Yoga helped me see that if I wanted to change my life, I couldn’t wait around for someone else to save me -- I had to do that work, let go of what I must, and be a yes for making hard changes. I never thought this work would be easy – but even knowing there was a path forward filled me with a sense of possibility and power I’m not sure I’ve ever felt before.
Since then, I’ve given yoga the serious attention I thought something that has life changing powers deserves. I’ve practiced my asana nearly every day whether I was at home, traveling to another city, or on a multi-week back-packing trip in the wilderness. I’ve mediated diligently. I’ve interrogated myself and my stories every night through my journal, my blog, and conversations with friends. I even added the word “yogi” to my byline on Instagram, to publicly identify the practice as central to my new identity.
Committing to these routines has had powerful results in my life. Most profoundly, it gave me the courage to enter into this journey on my own terms – and once there experience it from a place of new physical vitality, emotional awareness, and interconnected with others. Even off the road, several key relationships in my life have been transformed thanks to the insights and actions coming from my yoga practice.
Of course, it’s not like everything in my life is “solved”. As many of you that regularly read these blogs probably intuited, this fall has been equally full of profound discoveries and new connections, AS WELL as moments of intense pain and crippling fear too. I’m still dealing with broken relationships. I’m still trying to grapple the meaning of nearly dying (more than once) during my two months in Alaska. And perhaps more than anything, I’ve been weighed down by a growing unease about “what’s next?”
All of which is a long way of saying, despite feeling empowered in new ways, I’ve also felt lost. And the last time I’d felt this lost, the thing that helped me more than anything was the community and intensity of completing a Baptiste weeklong seminar. So, several weeks ago, I decided last minute to return to the desert and complete another week of Baptiste training.
I’m not ready yet to write about that second week I spent in Sedona. Too much happened. Too much shifted – almost entirely in life giving ways. No doubt, in the end it will all end up in my writings in one form another.
But most concretely for the course of my journey, is what’s happened since that I want to share. Specifically, the day I returned home, the owner at UpYoga in South Minneapolis asked me to teach two classes, to realnon-yoga teacher people, at the studio.
Initially I was fill with excitement and pride. But as the day got closer, I also felt increasingly nervous. I imagined what class would be like over and over, and I had trouble sleeping despite the intense outpouring of support from friends and family.
On the actual day -- I had no idea what was ahead. In the hours leading up to it, I felt wave after wave of fear. Did I have anything to offer? Would everyone think I was a fraud? Would this all just prove again I’m not really good at anything of substance?
But the truth was – none of that mattered – at all. When I actually did the thing, and got into the studio and saw my students, all those fears about me disappeared. There was no space for my obsessive “me centered” concerns. There were people in front of me who I cared about – even the ones I’d only just met – and from the center of my being, I wanted to share with them this thing, yoga, that’s so changed my life. And so, I did that, in all my imperfectness, using the tools I’ve been learning the best I could.
The classes hardly matched my mental models. And there are things I wish I could have said and done differently. But both days the sixty minutes flew by in the best possible way. It was humbling, empowering, and thrilling all at the same time.
When I think back on them, there is one moment that sticks out most. As the students were holding “chair pose” the second class, I looked at the room, and saw many of their faces were grimaced, full of exertion and intensity. I get it. That’s been me. Experience and conventional wisdom taught me that nothing good comes from doing things without seriousness and maximum effort; but in that moment I also saw the absurdity of that belief too. Without thinking, the words, “Smile, it’s just yoga” came tumbling out of my mouth. I saw eyes around the room lighten up. Faces relaxed. Many people audibly laughed. And then, many people, without any suggestion from me, sank lower into the posture. Ease, and forgetting the seriousness of their exertion, gave them access to something new.
I left the studio both days absolutely charged up – so thankful, connected, and eager to learn more so I can offer more in the future too.
So, have I figured out “What’s next”?
In some ways yes! And while I don’t envision my entire future being defined just by teaching yoga, for the first time on this journey I’ve found something I know I want to bring with wherever I go next. And that’s most definitely worth smiling about.
