Someone recently wrote on my Instagram a question thatās been in the back of mind ever since I read it a few weeks back.
They wondered where all of these yogi tricks were coming from? Because- as a person whoās distantly known me for about seven years- it seemed to be coming out of nowhere.
They werenāt saying it with criticism or skepticism, the comment was peppered with compliments as well. It was raw curiosity that- to be honest- makes sense, when I really think about it.
It got me thinking- about my āyoga storyā as yogis so often refer to their journey, their evolution- to live, breathe, and practice.
I think mine goes something like this:
I was introduced to the concept of yoga at a very young age, as my rockstar of a mom was a teacher years before the whole fad had really begun. I took some of her classes, and went to outside classes with her- but Iād be lying if i said I really āgot itā back then.
It was fun and challenging for me, but- realistically- it didnāt keep my attention. It wasnāt something I was immediately drawn to, as much as it was something I knew was good for me physically, so I continued to sprinkle it into my exercise routines.
I started getting really into it about six years back, when one of my dearest friends introduced me to Corepower. The heat of the room, combined with the fast-paced almost dance-like Vinyasa immediately swept me off my feet. I was hooked.
I was broke as a joke, still a student, and chose to sacrifice other material things or outside pleasures to make sure I could pay that $100/month for classes there.
As much as I loved it, looking back- I know I still hadnāt even remotely integrated the yogic philosophy into my daily life.
I honored my body in the sacred space of those walls, but my inhibitions collapsed outside.
I was unhealthy, beyond the means of food intake.
I was living an unfulfilled, unbalanced life- abusing my body in the process.
My first trip to Indo and Africa certainly served in opening my eyes to a more enlightened way of life- though not through the physical practice of yoga, rather the exposure to living life outside our comfortable bubble.
Serving others.
Seeing yourself in all living things.
Real interconnectedness.
Unfortunately, despite my life changing experiences abroad, I slipped back into old- and even more harmful- habits when I came home.
Somehow, this time around it felt even worse. Perhaps because Iād felt what the light of living life on the other side of the spectrum was like.
And I wanted to go back there, so that place- that sensation of lightness, but I couldnāt.
My mind was weak, therefore my body could not follow.
Hitting rock bottom nearly shattered my spirit.
But itās also what really saved me, isnāt it?
I left again, traveling this time for nearly two years. It was in this time I found myself, defined my purpose.
And it was in this time that I turned back to yoga. I started practicing regularly about two years ago when I was living in Uganda, and feeling this need of longing- searching for more. Drawn to a path i couldnāt quite define.
After my near-death experience there, resulting in being hospitalized for 10 days with a gaping infected wound and not enough energy to lift a finger, let alone stand on my hands- I lost sight of my practice once again.
It stayed on the back burner for months- as I left the Motherland and roamed South East Asia for months on end.
It remained lost when I came back to America and went the through the grueling misery of a two-week long court case.
Which I lost.
And nearly broke me all over again.
I felt betrayed, and personally let down by our country as a whole. I didnāt feel protected nor justly served, and-overall- I felt disgusted to be here.
So I left- again- attempting to mend my pain through the service of others.
Moving to Kenya with only a backpack, and a vague plan of how to make it work was terrifying- but it was the best thing Iāve ever done in my life. Because I believed in myself, and I worked harder than I ever have at anything.
My experience there was equally beautiful and painful. Sometimes it was downright terrifying.
Being stalked, nearly kidnapped, robbed, threatened- these are the things that awoke this deep-rooted anxiety that had been sleeping for years- bringing it back in full force.
I couldnāt sleep most nights, doused in fear, worry of what the dark sky would bring.
I was desperate to ease my mind, so I started to go to church with my assistant. Her faith in God put her mind at ease every night she heard the same screams and pounding outside that I did.
I needed that. I needed faith. Ease. Something to control my unruly mind.
The corrupt nature of her church didnāt really do it for me. It almost made me feel worse, if anything.
So I took matters into my own hands, and started mediating daily. Sort of mediating/praying, really- lifting my pain up to something greater. Alleviating even just a bit of the burden.
I started sleeping again, not a lot- but enough to clear my mind. Enough for me to gain back some of the weight that had melted off with the worry.
And thatās how I left Africa, over a year ago now- with fear and hurt in my heart. Thatās not how I want to leave a place thatās brought me so much more joy than it has pain.
And thatās one of the many reasons Iām itching to go back.
Regardless, this was perhaps the first time id really explored mediation, and I felt the affects almost immediately. It was like having this warm, yet light blanket over me when I closed my eyes to sleep.
A comfort.
And a shield.
But it was again lost when I went back to Asia. And I realize now, the pattern of mediation and yoga resurfacing in my life is all about when I NEEDED it, when i didnāt know where else to turn. It was always there- a great stress reliever, an old friend, even- whose back is never turned.
Now I know, I donāt only need it when Iām there at the bottom, but always. Itās a practice because itās something to work towards, work on, work within- every day.
Fast forward another nine months and I felt Iād hit that bottom slump again- though this time for health reasons, alone. My body was so damaged from Africaās abuse, I didnāt recognize myself anymore. I felt like a stranger living in another personās house.
It was awful.
I tried everything- and then I found something that worked.
Acupuncture and other holistic medicine changed everything. Yeah, it was a process- a few months longer than simply taking a pill- but the feeling of pure clean energy was so worth it.
I began mediating when I got back to Bali and when I broke up with my boyfriend- on somewhat of a whim- having no one else on this remote island to turn to. It helped to ease my heart, calm my mind- ever day.
And I started going to yoga classes- something I hadnāt done in YEARS. To be honest, I did it not only to aid my mediation, but also just to meet people.
I was lonely. And nervous.
And I did. I met one of the dearest friends Iāll ever know.
Through her, I met an entire Bali family that I didnāt want to leave when my few months there were up.
During my time in Indo, I found myself landed in the hospital once again from an unknown bacterial infection which completely derailed my healthy lifestyle, once again. I was terrified to take any prescription drugs, let alone even something minor to ease the fever- refusing each one of those tiny pills the doctor's begged me to swallow.Ā
I was in the hospital for three or four days, i can't now remember. When i got out, I was weak- i'd lost at least 5 pounds, which is a lot for my 5'3" body to let go of. I felt that ever-so-familiar feeling of withering away, allowing sickness to define me, once again.Ā
I shacked up in my friend's place for a few days to recoup- as she had the luxury of hot water and AC, which seemed necessary in the healing process.Ā
I struggled to keep food down, still. Burning fever breaking on and off throughout the night, as I sat in sweat and fear, alone.
Her place also had wifi, which was something I'd happily neglected for the first month of my stay. But, weirdly enough, the power of the internet is what brought my focus back to holistic healing. Taking responsibility for your body, and the ways in which you can serve yourself if you find it failing you.Ā
I simply googled- "yoga pose to ease stomach pain, or balance stomach acid," something like that. What was the first thing that popped up?
Stand on your hands instead of your feet.Ā
I used a wall, of course I used a wall, I hadn't kept down food for almost a week now. You'd think i'd be shaking like a leaf, right? but no, somehow that blood rushing from one end of my body to the other was like a lightening bolt of life recharging me.Ā
I smiled with a red face and a hopeful heart.Ā
I ate dinner that night,Ā and all three meals the next day.Ā
I can honestly say, I think i've stood on my hands just about every day since then.Ā
Something I've been doing since I was- what? Four or five years old, i think. Something i did as a child to express sheer joy and excitedness. Whenever I was over the moon, I just wanted to jump and flip and split all over any open space available.Ā
I was delighting in the movement, in my body, in the moment, in life.Ā
And this time, in that little Bali bungalow, I felt that same delight once again.Ā
I can't say it's something I lost, but rather, something that was suffocated with the poison i had fed my body, my mind, and my heart for the years in between.Ā
That light, that joy- it was still there, it was just repressed. Pushed down to a place I'd forgotten to revisit.Ā
From there, I found myself mediating daily, doing yoga, living life fully in a body I loved and recognized again.Ā
That was only this February, and since then- Iāve been through some huge changes. Massive ups and downs.
But yoga has been there for me- the space between my breath and movement which breeds light within.
In doing this teacher training, Iāve learned more about yogi philosophy and history that- even at 5,000 years old- still affects my present day life.
Iām still growing and changing every day, but I can say with certainty that Iāve never seen life with such a clear mind and perspective.
I practice to learn. To evolve. To express myself, and allow my heart to speak through my physical body movements.
And it is now, that I know with an absolute truth why Iām here- my intention for this life Iāve been given.
For that, I dedicate myself wholly to live a life of purpose.
I will stop at nothing to make my dreams reality.
Because thatās the greatest thing this has taught me- breaking those barriers of āI canātā or āIām not good enough, I could never do that.ā
I can, I can do all of these wild and crazy things I want to do.
I am enough.
We all are.
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