Finding My Resolve
Full Disclosure: 2021 has been an extremely difficult year for me. And, it's been nearly two years since I've placed a toe on my yoga mat.
There. I said it.
But it's important to say, because I know I'm not the only one. Sure, during this pandemic plenty of people found the time to exercise, bought the gym equipment, or because they no longer had a commute joined that yoga or pilates class via Zoom. But some of us did not.
Some of us still haven't.
I am "some of us."
At the start of lockdown I had a baby. I was home with him, my husband, my middle schooler, and my dog. And while the isolation was sad and had its own challenges, looking back on it now, that was the easy part. As we emerged from lockdown and my maternity leave ended, life got more challenging. I was helping my middler schooler navigate "hybrid" learning. My husband was back at work so I was looking after both boys. And I was back at work. For a medical news website. Where the news was, and still is, COVID-19. It makes for long hours, and between that and my family, I found myself without time for my mat.
Oh, sure, I had good intentions. But reality and my intentions could never quite seem to meet up. Asana just wasn't in the cards.
Meditation was where it was at.
I never thought of myself as someone suspectible to sensory overload. But when everyone is home and on various video meets and the dog is barking and the baby toys are going off, well, silence is suddenly golden. And every day, sometimes three times a day, I would buckle my baby in his stroller and take a walk. That was my meditation, my connection to nature, and it offered the silence I needed so I could unwind from the day. (I also cried. A lot.)
But the mat? Mama ain't got no time for that.
Until last night.
New Year, New You? No! New year, reconnecting with myself.
I rolled out my mat, sat down on my bolster, closed my eyes and sat in meditation for what felt like forever and not quite long enough. I sat until I noticed my breath and slowed it down. I sat until I noticed my posture and began making adjustments. I sat until I felt calm and the hecticness of the day melted away. I rolled out my mat, and I sat.
And then I went searching. Searching for the woman who previously rolled out this mat with enthusiam and a big, pregnant belly. Searching for the woman who guided others through a restorative practice on a weekly basis. Searching for the woman who, after her first class 10 years ago, knew she always wanted this practice in her life. So I opened a binder full of print outs and outlines and readings from classes I led from 2017-2020, and found the words in the graphic above from a previous issue of Magnolia Journal.
It was like finding a little piece of myself. A piece of who I was before COVID-19, before the days got incredibly longer and noisier, before I lost myself.
It's not lost on me that I pulled out that piece from Magnolia Journal during not just the winter season in our calendar, but this winter season of my life. But I will wait for the light to bloom again, and I will wait on my mat, sitting in meditation, until everything falls away and I am called to move.
Because Asana is just one part of this practice. And I will find my way to it again.
Right after I find myself.