As I wrap up my yoga teacher certification for vinyasa flow, I wanted to share an essay I wrote at the beginning of my training.
A little backstory:
this journey has anything but a peaceful wake-up call. More than learning how to cue postures, it paved the way for a path inward — a road is not always an easy one to navigate. I have felt sick to my core through the realizations that have come out to greet me with open arms. But I am following the map, finding out how to be comfortable with being uncomfortable, accepting that it's okay to feel lost because I will be found. I am done driving along with the patterns of yesterday; I am ready to take the wheel and be present in today. There are lessons to every bump along the highway, and when fully grasped, these moments show us that life encompasses a never-ending place of experience. My forever mantra: never stop exploring, your breath is your fuel.
Here are some thoughts I had about a year ago:
Driving with No Direction
It’s usually on my way home when I realize how much yoga has changed my life. After my 9-to-5 job, sitting by myself in my car, my mind expands into all sorts of directions. It’s kind of scary, but I’m also at ease and feel compassion that was never there before I started my practice.
I was born and raised in San Diego. Growing up, I realized at a very young age that I did not fit the piece to the puzzle that was my surroundings. My parents are both from the south, where they were raised in Catholic households. They tried to instill these values in me and my siblings, which none of us really connected with. I remember sitting in mass and feeling so confused about what was happening. Who was this old white man telling me how to live my life? Why did I always have to ask for forgiveness? Should I add that I started thinking about the car sex scene in Titanic to the list? Should I feel guilty about being excited to try some wine? Do I really have to sing?
Aside from all the questions, what I really felt was a huge disconnection with whatever the higher power was. I decided at 18 to not follow any religion at all. What was the point? Then my 20s came around: stepping into a day-to-day routine, drenching myself in toxic relationships, blurring the lines between being a “girl who takes risks” and a “girl who runs away from her problems”. All in all, I was flailing; I had nothing to grasp as I fell down a spiraling staircase.
It was about 3 years ago when I decided to give yoga a go. Immediately, I entered a space that shook the system I had been operating on my entire life. I was manifesting a flow of emotions with a flow of movement—releasing tension that was locked up in my body for a very long time. In unison, other people around me were doing the same. Their planes were different, but we were all here together, shifting together, speaking a language with our bodies…setting an intention specific to that very moment in time. I received what sitting in a church my whole youth never gave me: a ritual of connection.
Yoga has taught me—and continues to teach me—that I can’t control what’s around me, but I can control what’s in front of me. The greatest relationship is the one you have with your self, your breath. Instead of putting my destiny into a religion I don’t understand, I’m going to focus on the things I do understand—my life right in front of me. I come to my mat and always say this to myself: “you are exactly where you are supposed to be”.