I wish I had a profound story of how I found yoga, but the truth is: it’s pretty mundane. I’m guessing not so different from many others; one small discovery after another until one day, in retrospect, something profound really has happened.
My practice started as yours might have, a group practice in gym. And I only arrived there out of a sort of desperation that is born of being bored, having too much time and too many options. But I hadn’t tried yoga, and this teacher was wearing amazing pants, and well, why not? I followed Amazing Pants into the gym studio, and was immediately intrigued by this whole business of chaturanga and garudasana. More specifically, I had no idea how actual humans could do that, and I made it my business to keep a weekly date with Ms. Pants until I figured it out.
And honestly, I hadn’t figured it out yet by the time I got my hands on a tattered copy of Georg Feuerstein’s “Encyclopedic Dictionary of Yoga”. While I enjoyed the challenge of the physical practice of asana, I was now broken wide open to a curious world of satya (truth), moksha (liberation), and ashta-anga yoga (the eight-limbed path). The book remains my favorite on the subject of yoga. Without hesitation, I can say that my love for the practice started here: when it began to engage me not just physically, but intellectually and spiritually. But still – so far, so ordinary.
Here’s the thing: I probably would have made it here whether or not I had tools like meditation, breathwork, asana, community and compassion that I’ve cultivated in my yoga practice. There is something to be said for arriving wiser, softer, stronger, kinder and more curious than ever, though.
“What I’ve learned has touched every extension of my in my life – as a mother, a lover, a friend, a colleague, a lover of the outdoors, and beyond.”
I’ve never been granted a greater privilege than to practice and to sit alongside everyone who has ever laid a mat out alongside mine, and was willing to listen as I shared what I know about these precious tools.