- Brenda Russell
I think it was my first yoga class; we were on our back,
knees to chest, rocking side to side. The teacher reminded us of the nurturing we
give to our children as we rock them in our arms. Now we have the opportunity
to give this nurturing to ourselves. I tried to muffle the noise of my crying
as the tears soaked my mat.
In yoga class, I guide my students to tune in to their
breath, and gently lead them to an awareness of thoughts, sensations and
emotions. In the awareness, we have to power to release what no longer serves
us. Sometimes a pose will trigger a buried emotion or memory, and the tears
make a surprise appearance.
Yoga is one form of catharsis, an instrument used to release
what is being held deep within. All forms of art can touch a space and raise emotions to surface. A childhood song not
heard in years. A poem that expresses our innermost knowing. The physical act of running, singing, riding a bike, or practicing
yoga can also be effective.
Before practicing yoga, the only thing I understood about
letting go is that it hurts. That’s why I’ve run away from it. Celebrating my
last day of a job that I held for nine years with shots of tequila only temporarily blocked the pain of letting
go of the life I knew. Complaining would also block me from facing what I don’t
want to see. It’s like I’m trying to convince myself of another story. I can
cast myself as the hero or a victim, whichever suits my ego. It would give me a false sense of control, which I found to be the hardest to surrender. I would
get stuck in this thinking, this belief, this way of living. It would hold me
back, but I was terrified of letting go.
“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was
more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”
― Anaïs Nin
I was so tired of working in an office, I felt myself
disconnecting. I’ve worked steadily since I was 19 years old, and now I wanted
something else. I dreamed of being a yoga teacher, but didn’t think it was
possible. Then I found an off-campus Kripalu yoga teacher training that could
work with my schedule. Then I lost my job. When I started my training, our
instructor advised that we will change in ways we couldn’t yet imagine. I didn’t
believe her. I’ve been through enough changes; I just wanted to be certified.
What I didn’t understand was that the training would be much more than how to teach
poses. It was turning on my light, seeing myself as I am. It was being present
to my tribe of fellow trainees, witnessing their enlightenment. By our
graduation, we could each acknowledge our transformation.
When I get really quiet, when I allow truth to come into my awareness
and just sit in it, the process of letting go can begin. Before I can let go of
something, I need to see what it is. Thoughts, memories, images and sensations
do not define me. I acknowledge them, and release them. I am
gentle with myself in the process. I slow down or stop whenever I feel overwhelmed
or just empty.
Being gentle with myself is essential. My first (and only…
so far) 5K run, I pushed myself at my full capacity when the starter gun fired.
In less than a half of a block, I could no longer ignore the sharp burn growing
behind my sinuses. I slowed to a trot, and stayed with that pace. By the time I
crossed the finish line, I think it was about 40 minutes later, I felt good.
Somewhere along the way, I dropped the judgments and the fear of failure. It was very freeing.
