One day, not too long ago, I arrived at my yoga class with a
broken heart. I set myself up in the back corner of the room. My teacher walked
over to me, and asked me how I was doing. I could not answer. Ugly primal noises came from me, warm liquid streamed from my eyes and nose. She held me until my
composure returned. She invited me to stay for class, doing only what called to me, even if that was laying in child’s pose for the hour.
Garbhasana, child’s pose, is kneeling in prostration with
the forehead to the ground. Normally used as a resting pose, it is very
effective in integrating warrior poses. Virabhadrasana Dwi, warrior two, is such
an empowering pose. The body takes it space, from the authoritative leg stance
to the arms outstretched, this pose states “I am here.” After exploring
warrior, coming into child’s pose brings that awareness from the outside in.
My teacher has offered feeling the courage of child’s pose.
Surrendering to gravity, allowing whatever that experience brings. This openness
is an act of bravery. Trust in the body, the mind, the heart. In the stillness,
possibilities abound.
Off the mat, I struggle to find my place in this life. Balancing
my own interests with the work required in each day. I am choosing to
schedule my time to study and practice yoga. Sometimes I need to fight for that
time and space in each day. I take action, however small, that states “I am
here.” Sometimes it’s taking a different yoga class; sometimes it’s studying
the Sanskrit names of the poses. Each day, I commit to what is important to me.
When the day does not allow me to practice, I recommit the next day.
Those days that do not allow me to practice are my greatest
challenge. I feel agitated, I feel swindled. When breaking free from family or work
obligations is not a choice, complaining is not my only option. I can surrender
to the wisdom that the moment offers. Being open and present in the moment, when
the fight or flight urges pull, can be a frightening idea. What if I let go,
and just let this happen? What if I listen to what someone else needs? What if
I give of myself, trusting that the time for me will arrive as needed?
The day I cried in yoga class, I was fighting to be present
in my own life. I was battling the fallout of an important relationship. When I
surrendered in my child’s pose, I felt the loss. I felt the
emptiness inside me. I did not hide from it. By facing the pain, I began the
healing.
Through yoga, a new world opened to me. A world that explores both empowerment and
surrender, I discover nuances in the dance of that balance each day.
