I thought this yoga was all about inner peace anyways......

It has been a month since I have reallistically considered writing in this thing. Thank you to those of you who have asked me to resume writing. It feels strange and pleasurable to realize that somebody out there actually reads my blog. It has been a crazier than usual month with the end of year fiscal stuff, a new and cumbersome schedule due out the door on January 1, a trip to Brazil with visa hoops to jump through, and the holiday season.

I'm not going to get into great detail about the things that have been happening on the homefront but let me just say that we had major reconstruction happening to our home during the month of December and my parents moved into my house on December 20( They will live with us 4 months out of the year) and Matthew is still unemployed............

I want to write about yoga and why I so desperately cannot function without it. I know it has saved me over the past month. Saved me every time I have gotten on my mat, every time I have closed my eyes, every time I have heard my own ujjaii breath and let it fill me. My breath has filled me when I was overwhelmed, when I was tired, bitchy and scared.

Yes, I have been scared. I am the one with the lifelong companion of self doubt and anxiety. I am the one who hears the voices that she is not good enough. My voices say, "What are you doing? Running a studio? You will fail. You have too many classes, are not organized enough, not thin enough, not smart enough, not kind enough, etc. " My voices say, "You will never be able to hold it together while Matthew is unemployed. You will never be a good enough mother, daughter, friend. You are a fraud. You are irresponsible. You are selfish. You are out of your mind for the choices you make. "

As I write down these words, it is important for me to say that I am not looking for sympathy. I am not looking for compassion even. I am just stating that these feelings of anxiety and self loathing are something that I have dealt with for as long as I can remember. I know that I am not alone.

When I first heard about the re-emergence of yoga, sometime in the mid 90's, I did not pay attention to the claims of "inner peace and happiness" that yoga experts claimed would be a direct result of this ancient practice. As a matter of fact, I thought that "inner peace" was something to run away from. Something that keeps you mediocre, keeps you from facing life, from growing, from competing. I really believed that "inner peace" was for slackers and people who couldn't deal with life. This was based on my longstanding belief that life was hard and unfair and I was not born with a silverspoon in my mouth. I was not born rich or beautiful or smart or talented. It was my belief that anything I had going for me in my life was because I had fought for it. At the time (pre yoga), this included a 100lb. weight loss, the most beautiful baby in the world, a loving supportive husband, and a modest home. I also believed that anything I had going for me could be lost in an instant if I let it. If I got complacent. I had to constantly be on my toes. Eat right-no mistakes. Exercise every day-no time off ever. Never complain as a mother. Do it all . Clean everything. Never complain. Smile. Smile. Protect everyone. Protect everything I have. It can be lost in an instant. It would be my fault. My fault.

I remember the first time I tried yoga. On a cold and dusty hardwood floor with the most beautiful ceilings from which white lights and ivy garlands were wrapped around wooden beams. Late afternoon light streaming through tall windows. Trees blowing in the winter wind. Loreena Mckennit played on in the background coming from a small cd player. My teachers' voice was male and had a strong european accent. His ujjaii breath was loud and powerful and as a teacher he used the tool of this sound far more than verbal direction.

I was not on that yoga mat for inner peace. I was there for the burning in my thighs in a super long holding of bridge pose. I was there for the edginess I felt in my hips in badha konasana, for the fear I felt in shoulderstand. I was there to push, I was there to feel. I was there to feel. I was there because this was new and different and I was exhausted from my daily routines. and I didn't know this because I was not allowing myself to feel anything but the pressure of the voices.

As some of you may have experienced, when you first come to yoga, instead of finding inner peace you might find chaos. You might come to head to head with stuff you had not been dealing with. Yoga can be confrontational and scary. It can shatter what you hold onto dearly. I think this is what happened to me. I held on to believing I could never be good enough and that life was unfair and cruel and unsafe. In this yoga class, I held on, I held on and stayed present in the longest holding of bridge pose. Yes my thighs were burning and my lungs were burning, but somewhere in the middle of a bridge pose, I let energy and sensations rise, I stayed present in my body and allowed the waves to rise, crest and dissipate. Riding out these powerful waves -I let myself fully in and I found my witness. My witness held the space for me to know that I was good enough. That I had always been good enough. My life was good enough. This world is good enough or not good enough and it doesnt' matter anyways because I am ok. Everything is ok. I am absolutely ok.

Thank you yoga for the witness. Thank you for forcing me to see the havoc and lies that my "inner critic" played and still can play in my life. Thank you for showing me that the voice of "shame" is a liar. Thank you "witness" for bringing in light and clarity to my mind and helping me untangle a complex web of egocentric thinking, emotional pattering, rigid comparmentalization and other self-limiting and destructive thoughts to my authentic self.

Thank you witness for mending me and making me whole. Thank you for letting me know that I am not seperate or alone. Thank you for letting my suffering fall away.

This is why I return to my mat.