I’m hanging out inside of my head for a little while; the thoughts are zinging around replete with old temptations and irritations, I’m pushing them out and breathing hard as fast as they emerge, praying fervently that I don’t react to anything. I’ve been here before and I know, through experience, that there’s nothing to fear.
I’ve gotten really luciously lucky lately; and I’m not overlooking it. I get to have my own Personal yoga practice at least three times a week with some of the best teachers I have ever had the privilege of throwing down my mat . They are awesome, strong, humble and fun and kick my ass every single time I am in class.
It’s fantastic to be able to practice so well and begin to see the results of hanging in there and digging deep. I’m starting to be able to nail some really challenging and long-time elusive asana on the mat. I’m occasionally arm balancing some fairly tricky stuff and my abs, in spite of four kids in three full term pregnancies and no surgeries, are flat and hard and helping me to anchor my damn pelvis in King Pigeon.
I must confess that this stuff really does matter to me. I’m not saying that I care if I am ever the poster child for any of the difficult yoga postures, it’s not that. It is more that I am able to hang out in a community of people, loving what I do, and putting my best self forward, and be so well supported, encouraged and loved. And I have to sometimes work really really hard, way beyond my comprehensible abilities, and latch on to grace to stay in the flow and invite the postures to full expression. It’s blissful, sweaty and tear-inducing all at the same time. And I honestly love when it all comes together and manifests into something beautiful, beyond my wildest imagination. I do usually cry a little when it works out that way.
There is a hell of a lot of trust involved in arriving at such an auspicious spot. And I do trust, I really do; the community, my teachers, for the most part my body and my heart. Yet, I occasionally hesitate, interrupt the flow with doubt, there’s a glimmer of trepidation, a tremulous tremor, sometimes great gulping fear. And that is when I have to dig really deep inside of myself and remember how far I have come and believe that the graced invitation in my life is always to bravely and lovingly be; expressing in my most authentic capacity possible, all that I am and all that I hope still to be.
I guess I’ll just keep practicing.