Practicing yoga is my daily ritual. What started as an intensely physical practice has now transformed into a gentle, flowing dance. Yoga was born when I transitioned out of boxing, as the desire and drive for combat sport dissipated. I was searching for something to fulfill my intense need to move, sweat and burn. I dabbled with this ancient discipline years prior but quickly left it the moment my gloved hand smacked a punching bag for the first time.
When the instinct arose to learn and practice yoga, I tried several different styles and classes to find what suited me best. I uncovered a passion and affinity for Ashtanga yoga. I love this system not only for it rich history and lineage but also because it was active, progressive and dynamic. It is taught in Mysore style, where each student is given the specific sequence of poses as opposed to following an instructor's demonstration. This yoga is a self-practice, a moving meditation that focuses the gaze inward. It grows and expands as each pose is first remembered in its correct order and then performed in proper alignment. Ashtanga has six series which all begin and end with the methodically beautiful sequence of opening and closing poses. Despite my commitment over the past year, I am still on the primary series. This gently reminds me not to rush, to honor where I am at instead of wishing I was onto the next series. It encourages me to be present with what is, sucking the nectar from each pose as my body grows and changes from day to day.
Since the major life change, my practice has taken on new meaning and form. In the first days following the break down, I laid on my mat and cried. I could not muster the strength to even stand. It was a safe haven, my home, a community. It was support and comfort, giving me the sacred space necessary for healing. Sometimes, I arrived at class and slept. The combination of emotional distress, loss of appetite, sleepless nights and heartbreak created such exhaustion in my body and mind that just getting to class was the best effort I could make.
Throughout the last six weeks, the physical aspect of the practice has lost its dominance. I quickly realized that my mind and emotions needed the most work, not my already strong and fit muscles. Slowly, my priorities changed. Now I begin each morning breathing. I connect to my diaphragm, my ribcage, my heart. I lay on my belly and push the floor away with my navel. I create space in my chest, making room for my expanding emotions. Alternate nostril breathing balances my nervous system and the sound of Ujjayi breathing reminds me of peaceful ocean waves. The connection to the breath, the ultimate life force, puts me in touch with God, the universe and ALL THAT IS.
After my breath is deep and full, I sit quietly in a meditative state. I give thanks, offer forgiveness and ask for help. Inside myself, there is an open exchange with the Source. I acknowledge its presence and guidance in my life, cultivating feelings of profound gratitude. I remain in this quiet and focused place for as long as needed. I finish by silently reciting my opening mantras and chants as a means dedicate my practice and set a daily intention.
The physical practice begins with heat generating sun salutations, leading to standing and balancing poses. I then sit on my mat for the primary series sequence and finish with a delicious combination of backbends and headstand. After repeating my closing prayers and mantra, I lay down for a very long and replenishing rest. I surrender to that mat, walking that fine line of sleep and wakefulness. I drift away. My body has the opportunity to assimilate the benefits of the practice and replenish the energy needed to sustain me throughout the rest of the day. My heartbeat slows and my sweaty skin dries in the cool air. In this deep relaxation, I recover more fully than I do in a normal night's sleep.
My morning practice has always been a driving force in my life but now, it is taking on new meaning, deepening its roots and renewing my commitment. It saved me during the break-up, reminding me that I am supported by a community of people who share my love and dedication to yoga. It is there, in that room, where I feel the most safe. On my little maroon mat, I learn to process, heal and recover. It gives me unlimited space and comfort, always available like that of a best friend. Beginning each morning with yoga sets the tone for my day, grounds me with intention, relieves stiffness and tension while calming and energizing my entire being. It is my moment of worship, a visit to my inner church. I always leave class more alert, alive and attentive.
This practice opens my biggest muscle, my heart, allowing me to become comfortable with vulnerability. It reminds me to breathe when I am challenged, to find peace admist chaos. Yoga constantly create space in my most restricted areas, both in body and mind. I represents my ongoing dialogue with the divine, a moment of appreciation, acknowledgment and respect. It is one of the greatest gifts from the universe and something hugely responsible for making my life so fantastic.
