the day i quit going to yoga class…

Since college, I wore “stressed and busy” as shiny badges of honor, displayed loud and proud.

“I don’t know how you do it”.

I was the strong one; identified as the one no one had to worry about. The stoic rock in a crisis, the indestructible tower of courage, the person not afraid of anything, always the ‘I will figure it out’ person.

Sure, I felt the stress of this identity, but I was always taking on more.

I mastered “people pleasing” as a child, very quickly recognizing that doing a task for a parent earned praise and not anger. Praise was the equivalent of acceptance, validation and love. As I grew into adulthood, I took my over-the-top people pleasing abilities with me to every job I had, every friendship I ever made, every single romantic relationship; so terribly afraid of disappointing anyone that I would always say “yes”. 

“Wow, you take on A LOT”.

“I got it” and “no problem” were my response to everything. I identified as the woman and the mom who could balance all of it and do it alone. Maintaining the house and keeping kids alive, working forty hours a week plus overtime, returning to school and finishing my degree, completing my initial yoga teacher training all while balancing the needs of my son with spina bifida and the grief associated with losing both of my parents, only a few years prior. It’s not a surprise that I fizzled right out.

During a “depression risk” screening, the provider recommended I try yoga. Chuckling to myself and a little bit out loud, I thought, “I’m a yoga teacher for fuck’s sake. I’m all set with learning how to lower my stress, breathe and meditate”.

But was I? Was I really “all set”?

At the time I was a yogi who attended power yoga routinely. I was hooked on the dripping sweat, intense flexibility, the focus and drive to reach higher, go deeper. This was something I could master. I could identify as a yogi when I did not know how to identify as myself.

I could plank toe tap all day. I could reverse my warrior, perfect my triangle, transform into a cobra or a crow. The postures I struggled with the most were child’s pose and savasana. I would think to myself, “in a world where power yoga exists, why on earth would I lay here any longer than this without moving?!” (p.s. If this resonates with you, book a restorative, yin or gentle class immediately).

For a personal growth experiment, I committed to an hour long yoga practice with my eyes closed. It was a challenge I set for myself and felt like was the next step in yogi-awesomeness. The day of the class I rolled out my mat, took my seated posture, closed my eyes and I was transformed into another plane, another existence.

Here was where I learned the difference between attending a yoga class and participating in yoga…like the real deal yoga.  That day I learned that yoga was in the slow, quiet moments, maybe even a little more than the loud powerful ones. That was the day I quit going to yoga classes and starting participating in yoga practices.

The savasana that I experienced at the end of my “eyes closed” class was the most peaceful and blissful savasana I’ve ever experienced. The rest of that day felt glorious. I had renewed energy, confidence, and pride, especially in myself. This is where my mind drifts to when I think of ‘my happy place’.

Attending yoga is not enough.

Practicing refocusing your mind is where the juice is. Learning that your breath does in fact heal all the things. I want to teach people how to participate in yoga. How to slow down their breathing and incorporate movement to refocus their brain. I want to teach people that it’s completely normal to squirm in savasana but the posture is essential for peace. I want to teach people how to invite yoga into their life and guide them while it roots deep into their hearts and souls. I want to  teach you how to honor who you are in this very moment, focusing on what is working and letting go of what is not. I want to help students heal their nervous systems; I want to be the person I needed.

The truth is, I had no idea how bad it really was. I had no idea that the candle I was working so hard to kept lit at both ends was actually melting.

If you don’t make the time to calm your nervous system, your nervous system will shut down to conserve energy. Just prior to burning out, I knew I was reaching capacity and wasn’t sure I could handle or take on much more.

Inundated with “self-care” options, where you do go if you thought you were on the right track but then the train derailed? Better yet, how do you learn how to take care of yourself when you thought you already were?! I want to help people in a way that saves them from burning out; in fact, I want to help people avoid ever getting close in the first place. Healing and taking care of ourselves doesnt have to be overwhelming.

Slowing all the way down and listening more than speaking taught me how to interpret the body’s subtle signals, thus allowing me the opportunity to build a more trusting relationship with myself. Once that happened, I was able to accept that I deserved compassion and physical body happiness as much as I did spiritual happiness. Showing up for myself and practicing sense withdrawal (a fundamental principle in yoga) invited me into a world of uninhibited growth.