I don't talk about yoga much these days... there are many reasons behind that. For starters I haven't taught a class in many months, moving to L.A. has jumbled my life, rendering me unable to find the time to teach. Then there is the crazy yoga drama that has been sweeping the western world - if you don't know about it, I'm jealous of you - I'm tired of drama.
But mostly I haven't spoken about it because I haven't felt inspired in a long time too.
I don't remember the last time I walked out of a class "blissed out" of my mind, floating to my car and all the way home. I'm almost certain it was prior to becoming a teacher, some of the illusion was stripped from me the day I was handed that certification. I no long hold the ability to cry during hip openers, unless something is catching and pulling the wrong way.
The above photo I found here. I think they're amazing and staring at them got me to thinking what dream me to yoga in the first place, and its the art of it. The art of movement and the beauty of stillness - the flow of the breath guiding my arms and legs into impossible stances and the satisfaction of being there.
I miss yoga... I miss my yoga. I miss the quiet calm it brings to my mind and the endless space it infuses into my life and I'm sad I won't be able to get get back to it any time soon due to small children and lack of funds.
We find these respites in life. These things, actives, hobbies, and they save us from ourselves allowing us to see past the BS and directly into the point of it all. That moment you can see exactly what matters, what is important, who is important...
That was my yoga.
Its inside of me and I know I have to get back there, past the politics, past the popularity of it all - past the voices in my head that seem to be all to common place these days.
It's the yoga in me that makes me smile at hard times
It's the yoga in me that keep my spine straight
It's the yoga in me that reminds me "...neither in this world nor elsewhere is there any happiness in store for him who always doubts."
It's the yoga in me that shows me "...when the sage climbs the heights of Yoga, he follows the path of work; but when he reaches the heights of Yoga, he is in the land of peace."
Yoga has taught me breath, how to hold my tongue, how to looks past the me I thought/think I should be and accept the me I am - flaws and all.
It's always the yoga in me, even before I called it that.
I have memories from my youth that remind me, this is the path I was meant to take, even if I can't do a handstand in the middle of the room.
As the old yogis would say, what a man determines, he becomes - so it's the yoga in me that keeps me writing, playing with my son, kissing my husband - because I choose to become a yogi with a close family and a writing career.
That is what I need to remember.
That is what I need to keep going.
It's the yoga in me...