I remember my first class of yoga. I was 19, curious and seeking answers to life’s big questions. The teacher handed me an illustrated sequence of poses and told me to begin. I had high hopes for my first yoga experience.
At 19, I felt lost:
Hit me with a glimmer of magic, a tiny download of expanded awareness, the grand instruction manual for life or special key to my private universe. I want to know why sometimes I feel sad for no reason. I want to know what it feels like to be in love.
After a month of yoga, I hadn’t received any of these things so I retired early proclaiming yoga over-rated and irrelevant.
A couple of years later, I was living in New York where yoga was getting very popular. One day my friend called and said ‘I’ve found the best teacher!’ she said, and later that day introduced me to a yogi who would shift my path.
Sadie had perfect red straight hair and mystical green eyes. In her class wisdom dripped off her tongue and I began to sense a shift inside. I became a dedicated student. She helped me get strong and opened the door to Anusara yoga – (a very new form back then and something I would delve into properly later). In her class I wept, I laughed, I understood a little more.
I found her at the perfect time. New York was having me for lunch. Oh but I loved that city. I loved it so much I never wanted to leave. Those yoga classes were like recharges of energy. I got spicey and strong. I trained to be a teacher.
Yoga grew on me and through the brilliance of Anusara yoga, I began to unearth the wisdom that is ever-present, in each of us…I became an astute listener – most of the time.
Cut to present day me:
Geeked-out, heart driven, yoga-teaching psychonaut; an enthusiastic explorer of the body/mind and a dedicated student.
I know now why sometimes I feel sad for no reason and I know that falling in love is a beautiful reflection of the love that is inside already.
I fall. Do something shitty. Go back to my personal manual. Remember. Vow to not do it again. Forgive.
I have learnt that life is this continual pulsation between light and dark. I know myself within this pulsation and invite the mystery. I’m better at not knowing.
In fact, I like it.
