Trusting the Yoga
December 31, 2015 marks the day that yoga gave me enough courage to trust my inner self and allow it to guide me on a journey. I gave in my two-week's notice at the coffee shop I managed, and decided to break from the mentality of doing things because I "had to" or was "supposed to." Sick from constructing weekly schedules for employees, and anxious from watching the weeks fly by as the progress I had promised my personal, creative, and spiritual life stood still, All the yoga I had cultivated in teacher training, the inspiration I had felt, and the daily joys I had learned to embrace, I left in the line of fire.
My life was like sitting in chair pose as beginner yogi again, in a place where the posture tortured, where I hadn’t yet harnessed the power that the pose could unearth. I wasn’t breathing into life, noticing my experience, but rather, I was constantly fighting myself to get through it and past it- fighting against my ultimate goals, purpose, and outlook, while challenging my body and spirit to push harder on a low tank of energy and passion. For what? Being seen as a productive granddaughter, niece, daughter, and sister? A sense of stability as a working citizen?
It took some meditation to realize that this stability also made me feel incredibly stuck. It took listening inwards to free myself from the fears of the ego. It took the work to see my hope, to hear it scream through made-up worries of the future that had been fuzzy-ing up a clear message. I soon realized that I felt stagnant because I was just enduring, day in and day out, rather than striving, or living out how I truly saw myself: a fearless, frontier-breaking, world-changing me. Further, the sense of stability was just that- a sense, and in reality, could vanish at any moment.
The newfound clarity from simply taking the time to explore my Self also allowed me to step back and to observe how often the constant regret of time misspent popped into conversation, voiced by both myself and others. I may not have known (and still don’t know) the exact destination as to where or what I wanted in this life, but I began to realize what I definitely didn’t want, what was not important, in the life I was trying to cultivate. So, I made (in the end, the most logical of choices,) the choice to not watch my life pass me by, to not look at the calendar both longingly and regretfully, and instead, to share, serve, give back; to feel, to love, and to suck in every drop of sweet life. I would step out as a warrior, a champion of human dreams, and commit myself to really living life and making my time here worthwhile.
It all sounds quite graceful and merry, however it has been a strange and difficult journey, as someone who has not just worked since fifteen and a half, but also prided herself on how hard she can, in fact, work. After this decisive break, my current yoga of life has been to learn to enjoy time, to take every moment in and to truly indulge in the elusive idea that I so sorely craved for so long- that of "having time for myself."
It’s easy to fall into a whirl of existential anxiety after stepping out of the regularity and comfort of set work schedules, office structure, and predictable conversations that seem to so naturally flow into the waters of general complaint. When there is so much possibility and so little to “have to” do, I instantly spark with panic, asking myself about what I’m going to do in three months, six months, or next year. At times I feel as though I’m not contributing or doing enough with my time here. Then, I have to ask myself for who?
Without a doubt, that anxiety-ridden grip creeps up and whispers in my ear almost hourly, but that’s the yoga: working in a place that may feel uncomfortable or different and unearthing something new. That is why it is so much easier for many of us to delve into a new project, an intensive course, or an engrossing practice, indulging curiosity in the many things around us, rather than taking the time to search within ourselves. In breaking the bonds of the average path, the status quo, this path is different than most, and that is something that I have to embrace and should very well be proud of. After all, it takes courage to be with your true Self both on the yoga mat and off.
Yesterday, my dad told me over the phone that his close friend from high school had passed away. He seemed to be re-soaking in the memories, when he said something that stuck with and reassured me in my path greatly. Those words were, “I wish I could have seen him again. I guess we just lost track of time, let it get away.” And with that I took a breath for him, a breath for his dear friend, and a breath into trusting the journey of embracing this life.