Today, shortly, I will head to the yoga studio for the last two days of yoga teacher training. Yesterday was the last day with Ana Forrest but we still have the business class. I meant to go to open practice, do some yoga. But instead I decided to sleep in and have coffee, my first cup since training began. Then I decided to write this meandering post, which has absolutely nothing to do with beans. In fact I’m not sure it has to do with anything. Except how much I’m enjoying this cup of coffee. Its richness and depth, and the jittery feeling spreading through my body right now. The container of time it helped me build this morning during which I get to listen to the wind blow through trees outside the windows as I watch a sea of green against storm gray sky, undulating and speaking some language that I understand with every part of my body, my body that is so much more awake now than it was the last time I wrote here.
During training, the man I’ve been dating for the past two years left my life, at least for now. I’m doing my best to trust that it is what is supposed to be, that we each learned what we needed to learn from the other. To practice gratitude for feeling as loved as he made me feel. But every morning and every night, right now, tears pour from my eyes, down cheeks. My stomach heaves with the tears that I don’t yet know how to shed. I’m so very sad.
In training I realized how hard I am, how many layers I’ve built between myself and the world. I learned that my mode of dealing with life is to tighten my body, squeeze, constrict. I learned that my default answer is no. I learned that underneath my holding I am absolutely terrified. I also learned, however, that I want to say yes. Yes to whatever comes, whatever life has in store.
I hoped yoga training would show me how to let go. Instead it showed me how desperately I hold on. And that it is up to me to figure out how to live to my highest potential. That no one else can do that for me.
I’m not sure how I start. So I will breathe. Doing my best to trust that there is a place for me in this great web of a world in which I so frequently feel I do not belong. I will post this terrifyingly honest blog entry that has nothing to do with beans or anything at all except me. The beginning of what I hope will prove to be true strength, my developing warrior heart. Thank you, Ana Forrest, and everyone in the Forrest tribe. I am grateful for your welcome.