Everything changes. Everything stays the same.
Last Sunday was my yoga teacher birthday.
Seven years ago, I graduated from my 200-hour teacher training — with zero desire to teach yoga. Nope. No way. Teaching was for people who could do handstands and liked it when people looked at them. Not for someone with chronic issues from a broken back and a panic disorder.
I went to training because I wanted to nerd out about yoga. I wanted to learn Sanskrit and the yogic philosophies of the Eight Limbs, Sutras, Gunas, Doshas, and Ayurveda. I wanted to understand Tantra, Metta, the five koshas and Pranayama. I wanted to know what the hell The Bhagavad Gita was talking about.
It was all an attempt to understand the reasons why yoga was so much more mental than physical. I didn’t care about deepening my backbend, or how to cue Triangle pose. I’ve been living with anxiety and depression since my teens, and after I did yoga, my emotional turmoil was soothed. I could handle living in this world that felt so thorny and difficult.
This was brand new for me and I needed to understand why. And I found this entire practice that was created thousands of years ago for just that purpose - the reduction of suffering in ourselves and in the world.
It was only a couple of weeks after I graduated from my not-gonna-teach program, that I was asked to teach yoga on a Veteran retreat. And then I got more requests and despite my adamant claims otherwise, it turns out that I’m a yoga teacher.
There is a local yoga studio that has been my home away from home since I stumbled in there 15 years ago. Back then, I was in a moment-to-moment struggle with my mental health, and that yoga studio was the only place I could find some peace. It’s hot yoga, which is not for everyone. (Cue the snarky opinions about hot yoga, but I’m used to it. I’m a child-free/former child actor/vegetarian/Canadian, so I’m acclimatized to people giving me shit for my life and choices.)
It’s how I like to practice: slowly, with postures held for a longer time, in a predictable sequence. And it’s in a room where I am finally not cold. (I’m always cold.) It’s the practice that raised me — as a yogi. It allows me to focus in a way that I can’t get anywhere else.
But when Covid hit, I stopped going. I have been practicing at home, and it was great to do yoga without leaving my dog. But recently, I’ve been going back to the studio, and it feels amazing. It’s a joy not only to see my old friends but also to have that experience in my body again. And that peace I found 15 years ago? I still find it there. And honestly, with wars and injustice and general shit going on in the world, I need it.
But it’s also different now.
Jeremy and I woke up early and went to a different class than usual, and I found a whole new layer to the practice. This class had very little guidance (it was only for people familiar with that style) and there was music, which is very rare for me. The lights were low, the vibe was chill and it was the same but different. It’s extra wonderful because this particular sequence was created by a legitimately terrible guy (I won’t say his name)— and we are bastardizing it in all the ways he railed against. We took it from him and made it our own, and my rebel heart loves that.
Everything changes. Everything stays the same.
Here’s what else happened this week:
What delighted me
The response I got from last week’s newsletter about preventive health (and ostriches) was such a surprise. I didn’t know so many of us needed reminders that the kinda scary thing now can prevent a super scary thing later. It was a paid subscriber post but I’ve unlocked it to make it available to all:
What I read
A Teen’s Fatal Plunge Into the London Underworld - The New Yorker
Fascinating and shocking story: I’m sure we’ll see a movie about it soon.
After Zac Brettler mysteriously plummeted into the Thames, his grieving parents discovered that he’d been posing as an oligarch’s son. Would the police help them solve the puzzle of his death?
What I watched
Gotta love a financial David vs. Goliath story that is well-paced with good performances.
What is sweet and brutal
Carissa’s art and newsletter give me all the feels. It gets pretty dark, but she balances the light like no one else.
What is new
I posted a recap video of my last Mission Flexible Mindfulness Retreat. We had an amazing time near Austin, TX. We had a spectacular group of Veterans who showed up with openness and vulnerability — and we made friendship bracelets so that was totally rad.
Thanks for reading, friends. I’m glad you’re here.
Much love,
~Lisa