Early Bird Discount ends in 7 days!
go to www.poweryogaretreats.com to register today. Let me know if you have any questions. Give yourself the gift of Self this Christmas.
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New students are coming to every class here in Springdale. I feel happy every time I walk in the door of this lovely space. Bring a friend with you and enjoy some yoga bliss together.
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I recently entered an essay contest. The topic was 'The Bravest Thing I've Ever Done'. My submission is below if you would like to read it. I would also love to hear from you. What's the bravest thing you've ever done?
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Who’s to say what’s brave
and what isn’t? Sometimes brave might look
foolish or wrong, crazy or selfish. But
there’s one thing that brave always is.
Brave is always honest. Honest
like naked. Full-on-frontal, bare-ass
naked.
Out-in-the-cold-with-no-place-to-hide-while-the-wind-and-the-critics-cut-like-knives
naked.
Honesty. That was the bravest thing I’ve ever done. I said the honest words. I told the truth. The price of honesty was high. It took everything I had. Now I’m broke and homeless, but I wouldn’t
have it any other way.
I knew I’d have to start
over if I was honest. All the way over
from the beginning right in the middle of my life, but this time with no
prescription for how it was supposed to be.
‘The
struggle for security is no pic-nic.’ ~
Charles Schultz
That’s the caption of a Peanuts
glass I bought at a thrift store. It only
cost a dollar, but its message is priceless.
The cartoon on the glass depicts Linus outraged that Lucy and Charlie
are having a picnic on his blanket and he swiftly yanks it out from under them.
How dare they enjoy a carefree afternoon?
How dare they be happy? I get it,
Linus. Desperation for security leaves
no room for happiness. Security had me
by the neck and it was squeezing tightly.
There was only one way to
save myself. Say the words or
suffocate. I took a breath and said the
words. BAM. No more security. Welcome to the rest of my life. Real life. Uncertain.
Butterflies-in-my-gut living.
Alive. Finally.
The courage to be honest
didn’t come all at once. Courageous
honesty isn’t on the drive thru menu at McDonald’s. I found the strength to speak my truth
slowly, over about a decade on my yoga mat.
First, as a student, then after a few years I followed the path to
become a teacher.
Yoga taught me how to check
in with the wisdom of my body. Before
yoga, I didn’t know how to get at the truth that made its home in my bones. A long time ago, I had followed my heart into
love and it didn’t turn out well. I
remember the exact moment when I decided, quite emphatically, that I would
never get hurt again. I was done with
feeling. My insidious heart could not be
trusted. I chose to live only from my
head, completely disconnected and disembodied from the deeper parts of me.
The physical yoga practice
brought me fully back inside my skin. On
my mat I felt safe to investigate my thoughts and emotions. I explored the past without regrets and
pondered the future without anxiety. I began
to notice a soulful inner intelligence rising up inside of me.
As a teacher, class after
class I heard myself asking students to check in with their bodies, be honest with
themselves. I challenged them to live
the truth they could feel inside the edges of their skin and in alignment with
the love they felt in their hearts.
I was teaching what I
needed to learn. I was expressing my own
desire. I started to wonder if it was
possible to trust my heart. Again. For the first time.
‘I
had a second birth when my soul and my body loved one another and were
married.’ ~ Kahlil Gibran
There was a decision to
make. Stop saying those things. Stop teaching. Stop practicing. Stop selling what I wasn’t willing to buy for
myself. Or, be honest and live honestly. In order to do that, I had to stop blindly
following the prescribed life that was imprinted on my psyche.
The prescribed life made
sense. It was mirrored back to me
everywhere I looked, but my inner knowing hinted to me there was another way to
be alive in this world. There was a way to
live that was unique and true for me and it was becoming clear that it had
nothing to do with the prescription.
My life looked fine from
the outside. But it wasn’t fine. Even if it was fine, I knew I couldn’t live
with fine. The prescription promised
‘fine’. But what was ‘fine’,
anyway? ‘Fine’ is what you say to
someone who asks you how you are when you haven’t actually asked yourself. The comfort and security of the prescribed
life became a maddening numbness that I could no longer ignore. ‘Fine’
feels like nothing.
“And
the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the
risk it took to blossom.” ~ Anais Nin
The prescribed life came
from the past. But it couldn’t come with
me into the future. There was a gnawing
knowing that kept nagging at me. I felt
pulled, tugged by my heart in another direction. One way or another, the prescribed life and I
were going our separate ways. I wasn’t
getting a refill. I didn’t know how it
would work out or what it would look like.
But my body and soul were in this decision together. Then, all of a sudden, after a million
years, it was time. I spoke the truth
that set me free.
It’s a strange sensation to
not have a sense of the future in the way you’ve known the past. No prescription to go by. No promises.
No security. Being comfortable
with uncertainty is true freedom, but it’s also hard as hell.
Saying goodbye to a lengthy
marriage for the sake of living honestly made me the bad guy. I’d never been the bad guy. I liked to do things they way they were
supposed to be done. I liked it when the people around me were happy with
me. This wasn’t one of those times.
My head lead me into
marriage, but my heart was leading me out.
Marriage had been what was next on the list. The prescription called for it. The prescription told me what it should look
like and who my partner should be. I did
not consider how I felt. I had forgotten
how to do that. I had vowed not to be
vulnerable. I had promised myself I’d be
careful. I had promised I wouldn’t get
hurt. So, I made a smart choice. I made a safe choice.
I won’t pass it on. I won’t hand the prescription to my
daughter. I want her to intimately know
the truth of who she is. I want her to know that no matter what she
believes or how she lives that I will love and accept her unconditionally. I will be on her side, always.
It’s been almost two years
since honesty started running the show. My
life has become a constant process of turning the never-ending present moment
experience into something that sustains, fulfills and satisfies me. My heart, soul, mind and body are working
together. I feel whole and am getting comfortable
living in this state of not knowing what’s coming next.
Over the last few months, I
shed another layer of fear around the desire for security. I created what I called ‘my gypsy summer’. It started by terminating the lease to my
apartment. Then, I took my sweet 16 year
old to Kenya. We met my Kenyan friends
who run a school and orphanage. We got
to spend the night in their home with no running water and giggled together
under the covers. Honesty gave us both a
rough ride. On this trip we celebrated
love and forgiveness.
Then I took some time away
from teaching yoga for self-study at the Esalen Institute in Big Sur,
California. I met some amazing people
and completed a month-long work scholar group focusing on leadership and
presence. When I got home, I posted on Facebook
that I needed a place to stay for a while.
So, now I’m living with a sweet friend who has an extra bedroom. Thanks, Lindsay.
This month I opened my very
own yoga studio! Aptly named,
YogaGypsy. I am motivated to share with
others the freedom that honesty brings to life.
Every class is an opportunity for my students to get stronger and to practice
checking in with their bodies. It’s an
opportunity to ask their inner wisdom how they really are and have the freedom
to answer something other than the ‘fine’.
Living honestly is definitely
a good investment. I am humbled and in love with the journey of living. Really living. Everything is good. In fact, it’s exactly perfect because it’s my
creation. Not someone else’s
prescription. Brave. Stupid. Crazy. Whatever you want to call it. It’s the good stuff and it’s honest. I have everything I need and I am in awe of
the fact that I wouldn’t want things to be any different than they are right
now. I am fully supported by the
Universe. My bank account just doesn’t
know it yet!
Namaste,
YogaGypsy
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