Namaste

So you may remember this post from the beginning of the year in which I tout my new yoga habit. Confession: I haven’t been to yoga since there was snow on the ground.

While part of it was the “not enough time” trap all women seem to stumble into, most of the reason for my faulty attendance was that I just couldn’t find a class or instructor that gave me what I was looking for from yoga.

Some yogis love to sweat, some love to stretch, but what I was really looking for was the mental clarity that comes from moving slowly and concentrating on your breath. My intro class was fantastic, I left feeling light and clear, but once I started attending various beginner-level classes, the pace picked up and I missed holding poses for several minutes while I let my tension ease. I read this post from The Mollie Shambeau Show a few days ago, and it hit me hard.

Shavasana is known as “Corpse Pose” because it’s here, in these final few moments that we die. Not just as an idea, but actually. Understanding that one has collected so much during their lives. Not only books, houses, bank accounts—but inwardly… the memories of insults, the memories of flattery, the memories of your own particular experiences—neurotic achievements which give you position. To die to all that without argument, without discussion, without any fear—just to give it up—will create freedom.

Die to everything that you know psychologically so that your mind is clear, not tortured… so that it sees things as they are, both outwardly and inwardly.

You came to your mat as one person. You came to your mat as the thinker. You came to your mat being that of your thoughts. As you leave your mat today, you’re brand new. You’re no longer your thoughts or your doubts or your fears. And each and every day you come to your mat, this is what you do. You shed your old, and you become new. Innocent, fresh… and through this innocence, this is where you live in compassion… when you bring your yoga off of your mat and into your world. 

Namaste.

I have a bad habit of thinking about the stupid things I’ve said or done over and over and over… and over. I let these moments that I’m sure no one else remembers wiggle in and keep me up at night, shaking my confidence and reminding me that I’m not as great as I sometimes let myself think. Toxic thoughts are tough to shake on your own, and sometimes we just need someone else to tell us to knock it off. Truth be told, part of the reason I’m writing this post is so I have this quote available anytime I need to read it. Oh, and anyone know a good yoga class?

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