my love story with yoga
It didn’t begin with love. In fact, it nauseated me and there was a long separation, like, for about ten years. Ten years!
The nausea was real. It was physical. It was emotional. And this isn’t just my story. Uncontrollable shaking, uncontrollable sobbing, flashes of anger. And the shame and embarrassment of feeling those things in a room full of strangers. These are just some of the things people I know experienced in their first yoga class. And those people didn’t go back. Just like me.
Doesn’t sound like love does it?!
Then came along a radical woman. She turned yoga on it’s head for me. She brought yoga into the living room - intimate, fun, sociable, chatty - appropriate for the hour, for its time. I mean, it became relevant to the age. To sisterhood, to brotherhood. To justice and harmony. To interbeingness (interbeing is a term coined by Thich Nhat Hanh). To a time that calls for these things. There’s a thing called yoga off the mat, a notion of charitable action in community. She’s like, well, community is here right now right here on your mat with the person next to you, the person before you. Here is where it is. Out there too of course, and also here with eyes smiling at every person here with you right now.
So I fell in love with yoga. Yoga as a movement toward another human being. Toward interbeing. Why do I teach yoga? To remind us to move toward another human being with eyes smiling.
What is your love story with yoga?
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