that's not very yogi of you
"That's not very yogi of you," Blake commented as we were walking our dog one night. There was no malice in his voice, just observation.
I had gotten upset and my quick rise to anger surprised Blake. We were catching each other up on our days and an off the cuff comment bothered me. I explained to my husband why it bothered me, in which he understood why. He then questioned and asked "Why are you getting angry? Being a yogi is being calm all the time."
His words reflected a grander perception many have of yoga, and of life. This glorified ideal that having it all together equates to financial success, calm demeanor, materialistic accumulation, and effortlessly happy relationships.
It's not all 'light and love'. It's not all 'release to receive'. It's not all instagrammable moments. It's not all perfect or easy.
What yoga is to me and does for me changes, as frequently as the tides, seasons, and the moon change. Some days yoga is cathartic release, some days a tool for confidence building, other days a spiritual journey within.
Since moving to Charleston I've been fortunate to add more inspiring yogis as mentors. One of them, Kate Counts - a radical breath of fresh air for society and the yoga world - explains how our time on the mat is a representation of our life. We work through our emotions that we brought with us to the mat and the ones that arise throughout it. We struggle and tremble, we soar and achieve. Yoga is a practice, not a perfection.
Being a yogi isn't about living in a continuous state of peace and happiness where nothing bothers you. Being a yogi is where you experience, with curiosity and without judgement, every emotion that arises. You trace the path and begin to see patterns. You confront what you've covered up. You accept the fluctuations of your mind and body. You consciously choose to return to your truth, your voice, your integrity, your path, your soul's purpose.
I used to run away from my problems. Perhaps that is why I felt the need to move overseas to get away from them, only to discover that I had packed them up and brought them with me. I used to force myself to be numb to emotions - happiness included. I thought it was safer to be removed from life than to experience it fully. It didn't keep me safe, it only kept me from knowing myself.
Those emotions I repressed, those lessons I refused to learn, my inner wisdom I ignored, all made themselves known - in my relationships, my body, my choices. Years of traveling outside my comfort zone, nourishing healthy relationships, and re-acquainting myself with my self have taught me to run towards life, not away from it. Yoga has helped me acknowledge, embrace, and release whatever arises.
So when anger, joy, confusion, apathy, silliness, and courage arise, I greet them. I inquire why they've come to visit, what message they carry, what I can learn from them. I've given myself permission to feel the scope of emotions that come with being human. I know the feelings won't be permanent so I sit with them. Acknowledge. Embrace. Release. It is when we don't address them that we find ourselves stuck dwelling in them.
I've found power in letting my emotions be a catalyst for purposeful action.
When I'm sad, I cry.
When I'm angry, I speak out.
When I'm happy, I smile.
When I'm grateful, I give.
When I'm afraid, I surrender.
When I'm confused, I listen.
When I'm bored, I explore.
Blake and I have now created a new ritual where we name the feelings we accept, to not only lessen their grip on us, but to let them go or use them for fuel. Collectively, communication has always been our strong suit, but we are both practicing self-acceptance as a means of self-growth.
My life, like everyone else's, is a journey that holds obstacles, detours, straightaways, and u-turns. It will never be a linear path of peace and happiness, but I will forever head in that direction. As I continue on this journey, I'll welcome my shadow-side qualities of fear, anxiety, and anger as travelmates, fully knowing they won't stay around for long - as this journey is truly a solo one.
light heart. light spirit. light body. light mind.
I had gotten upset and my quick rise to anger surprised Blake. We were catching each other up on our days and an off the cuff comment bothered me. I explained to my husband why it bothered me, in which he understood why. He then questioned and asked "Why are you getting angry? Being a yogi is being calm all the time."
His words reflected a grander perception many have of yoga, and of life. This glorified ideal that having it all together equates to financial success, calm demeanor, materialistic accumulation, and effortlessly happy relationships.
It's not all 'light and love'. It's not all 'release to receive'. It's not all instagrammable moments. It's not all perfect or easy.
What yoga is to me and does for me changes, as frequently as the tides, seasons, and the moon change. Some days yoga is cathartic release, some days a tool for confidence building, other days a spiritual journey within.
Since moving to Charleston I've been fortunate to add more inspiring yogis as mentors. One of them, Kate Counts - a radical breath of fresh air for society and the yoga world - explains how our time on the mat is a representation of our life. We work through our emotions that we brought with us to the mat and the ones that arise throughout it. We struggle and tremble, we soar and achieve. Yoga is a practice, not a perfection.
Being a yogi isn't about living in a continuous state of peace and happiness where nothing bothers you. Being a yogi is where you experience, with curiosity and without judgement, every emotion that arises. You trace the path and begin to see patterns. You confront what you've covered up. You accept the fluctuations of your mind and body. You consciously choose to return to your truth, your voice, your integrity, your path, your soul's purpose.
I used to run away from my problems. Perhaps that is why I felt the need to move overseas to get away from them, only to discover that I had packed them up and brought them with me. I used to force myself to be numb to emotions - happiness included. I thought it was safer to be removed from life than to experience it fully. It didn't keep me safe, it only kept me from knowing myself.
Those emotions I repressed, those lessons I refused to learn, my inner wisdom I ignored, all made themselves known - in my relationships, my body, my choices. Years of traveling outside my comfort zone, nourishing healthy relationships, and re-acquainting myself with my self have taught me to run towards life, not away from it. Yoga has helped me acknowledge, embrace, and release whatever arises.
So when anger, joy, confusion, apathy, silliness, and courage arise, I greet them. I inquire why they've come to visit, what message they carry, what I can learn from them. I've given myself permission to feel the scope of emotions that come with being human. I know the feelings won't be permanent so I sit with them. Acknowledge. Embrace. Release. It is when we don't address them that we find ourselves stuck dwelling in them.
I've found power in letting my emotions be a catalyst for purposeful action.
When I'm sad, I cry.
When I'm angry, I speak out.
When I'm happy, I smile.
When I'm grateful, I give.
When I'm afraid, I surrender.
When I'm confused, I listen.
When I'm bored, I explore.
Blake and I have now created a new ritual where we name the feelings we accept, to not only lessen their grip on us, but to let them go or use them for fuel. Collectively, communication has always been our strong suit, but we are both practicing self-acceptance as a means of self-growth.
My life, like everyone else's, is a journey that holds obstacles, detours, straightaways, and u-turns. It will never be a linear path of peace and happiness, but I will forever head in that direction. As I continue on this journey, I'll welcome my shadow-side qualities of fear, anxiety, and anger as travelmates, fully knowing they won't stay around for long - as this journey is truly a solo one.
light heart. light spirit. light body. light mind.
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