“Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.”
~ Khalil Gibran
I looked at the clock: 6:45pm. Ten minutes to be at the studio to turn on the lights and music for my evening flow class, but I couldn’t get up. Remaining on the floor in the fetal position by my dirty laundry seemed like the only valid option in that moment.
Just that morning I had blithely chirped something to my early morning yoga class about the benefits of “showing up” on the mat, even if it was hard to get there. Then my relationship broke into a thousand confusing pieces on my lunch break, and I wanted to find Cheery Early Morning Me again just so I could kick her in the shins.
I wanted to burrow deeper indefinitely, but I can’t stand hypocrites, so I covered my chest in peppermint oil and forced myself off the floor.
My mantra of “I just have to show up. I just have to show up…” got me through the door in a minty haze. I took a few deep breaths while I connected my iPod, forcing the approaching tears to make a retreat.
We began to move, to flow.
I’ve never taught a class like that before—in my brokenness, my ego didn’t stand as tall and I found an authentic honesty in my voice and my yoga that I had never experienced before.
As I held space for Savasana, I realized that my active pursuit of life and faith had come to a comfortable standstill. How interesting to see my two extremes: Obliviously Happy and Painfully Aware.
Love, careers, people—they can all fall apart. Let them break. Let yourself break. Then show up. Be a witness to where you are and to where you want to be.
Even in the middle of circumstances that seem beyond your control, stake your claim in your ability to respond.
Clear away any blame or insecurity from your perspective, and find freedom in learning from the experiences unfolding around you.
Love elephant and want to go steady?
Assistant Editor: Karissa Kneeland/Editor: Bryonie Wise
Photo: Jaya Rae