Last September I got fired from my “home” studio. The place where I got my certification. The place where my friends challenged each other to become better teachers. The place where my boyfriend taught (he eventually cheated on me…problem solved.) The owner thought I was stealing email addresses from her computer system. (It should go without saying that I wasn’t.)
So, I went from spending 6 days a week at a place, knowing everyone’s name and feeling like a part of everything to…zip. Zilch. Zero.
Luckily, I had some wonderful yoga friends that picked me up off of the floor and thrust me into some lovely yoga situations. I taught at other studios and I started Bendo at the Zendo. I invented Emotional Rescue Yoga.
Honestly though, losing that connection to my “yoga roots” really hurt me, and I could not recreate the sustenance and the community that I had so valued there. Despite my amazing students and friends, I became really burnt out and I haven’t taught yoga in months.
I write a yoga blog and I haven’t taught yoga in months. Ah, hell, it’s the internet, let’s let it all hang out: I haven’t taken a yoga class in almost as much time.
I started sewing. I walked my dogs. I decorated my house on the cheap. But yoga? Nope.
Finally, this week I took my first yoga class in a while, and I was terrified. I felt like the new kid at school. I really wanted my mind blown. I wanted to have an experience that reignited my passion for yoga.
It was nice and that’s all. I could hear the excitement in the voices of the other students as they accomplished challenging poses. I remember being excited about that. I watched the woman next to me carefully lay out her yogitoes and wet it down delicately from her water bottle. I remember caring that much about my yoga environment.
I can’t get back to that place where yoga is a technicolor dreamland. It feels now like a dishrag-grey room in an ordinary building.
There are no tidy conclusions in this post; I just felt like sharing something personal with you. I don’t know how I feel or what I want from yoga at this point. It’s confusing and a little sad. A little scary.