The decision was made for me after a few stressful nights.
I needed space. I needed a moment to breathe.
I needed to get back on my mat.
The next morning, it felt like I had come home as I placed my purple mat on the dark brown wooden floor. The glowing Buddha statue at the front of the studio, familiar faces greeting me as if I had never left.
The practice flowed through me with more ease than I had anticipated, and it felt like heaven to my body and soul.
Although I always aim to release expectation, I expected more of a struggle. The poses, new and old, felt like a natural extension of my body.
A moment of honesty – I hadn’t really been on my mat in about 9 months. After a year and a half of a 2-3 time a week practice, it fell out of my routine.
This happens when life comes up, but this practice was a deep reminder for me to not lose myself in the process of living.
Coming home, in this case my spiritual and physical movement home, becomes more difficult the longer you wait.
You have excuses, arguments, and stories that you tell yourself and they can come to stand in the way of your joy.
Yoga is my joy.
Yoga is my home.
Yoga is my window into my soul.
On my mat, I refound my courage, my strength, my resolve.
A bonus lesson was received at the end of class when my dear teacher and friend announced that her journey is taking her to new places.
Waiting nine months to get back on my mat led me to miss nine months of her beautiful presence and wisdom.
Do not wait. Go after your joy. Live it each and every day.
Peace, Love, and Wellness,