on tuesday, i felt an urge.
i wanted to go to yoga.
so i changed my schedule, threw on some yoga clothes, and ran to the subway so I could make it to class at 3p at the jivamukti yoga school. for years i've been reading about jivamukti. a friend gifted me a book on it -- it was one of my first yoga books -- and ever since i've been intrigued. another friend is a lover of the jivamukti practice and her enthusiasm was a bit part of why i choose to go.
i was hoping to get there and feel this magical, mystical sensation...to hear a voice from another world that said "you are home". truthfully, i didn't. not in that way, no. but pressing my feet to the mat, and pushing up into downward dog for the first time in a class since september and for the first time in a yoga studio since august, felt right. it hurt too. but it felt right. by the time savasana came, i was grateful-- for that particular practice to be over, lol, but also for my practice to start again.
i didn't purchase the new student week long special. honestly, i didn't trust myself to go back this week.
but i did.
i've been back every day the last three days. i'm already wondering if i can fit it in tomorrow.
in the three practices i've had, i've felt my body begin to remember. to remember the breaths and the movements, to remember the poses i wish didn't exist and the ones i love to practice. it is slipping back into the familiar...
and yet it is different.
no one at this studio knows i am. they don't know i am (was?) a yoga teacher. they don't know how long i've been practicing. i am the new student, the one they've never seen before, and the one who seems out of practice. i am the one they support in headstand because she has yet to figure out how to do it herself away from the wall. i am the one who needs the reminder to use her core and tuck in her ribs.
i am a student. a new student. with a lot to learn.
before i moved to new york, i remember telling friends i was excited to be a student again. i was excited to spend the time on my practice and watch it grow. even though i had planned on teaching one class this fall, which didn't work out, i was excited to let my teacher side get some rest. i was excited for this because i knew my personal practice was wonky this year. i could feel my body reverting to bad habits. i could feel my own grasp on the practice slipping away.
that voice, that magical moment, didn't happen all at once, but happens little by little every time i go back. i think it is a combination of things at work. i think it is the chanting we do at the beginning of class that reminds me of my first yoga experiences and my training as a teacher. i think it is the calm exhibited by the teachers. i think it is the smile of the woman at the front desk who remembered me yesterday and the laugh of the woman today who told me the secret of figuring out which studio i'll be in. i think it was the calm smile and humor of my teacher today. i think it was the teacher last night who said that writing is a yoga practice (so perhaps i've just been practicing a different kind of yoga these past few months). i think it is the book i picked up in the little shop that is all about training the mind. i think it is my yearning to delve deeper into my spiritual practice. i think it is going some place new and yet familiar.
it took four months for me to get to yoga, but i am here now. i am back. and i am ready to begin again.