I’ve come to realize, in my many years of practicing, that yoga is hard. Yoga is an incredible commitment. And yet—and yet—it’s worth it.
I am the type of person that has always had the desire to work out, but never enough desire to fulfill that wanting—at least, not consistently. I would have weeks where I would really go at it and others where I’d sit on the bed and read for seven hours and just not care. Working out, to me, has always been about trying to look a certain way or trying to copy my dad, who dedicates himself to the gym or to the pavement for more than an hour a day. It was always about someone else. It was always about the outside.
But yoga—yoga has always been about me. About the inside. Not in a selfish way; not in an egoistic way; but rather in a content, deep, trusting way that keeps me grounded. That keeps me sane. I have managed to stay dedicated, and to keep coming back, because yoga heals me. Mind, body, and soul. (As cheesy as that sounds, it’s way too true. I’m not sure I can describe it any other way.) When my dad introduced me to it, it was the first time that I felt I was doing something that benefited me because not only did I actually enjoy it, it challenged me in a way that I could deal with. It worked my mind equally with my body, and it was methodical and flowy and beautiful—and strong. It actually surprised me, the first time I did it, how powerful yoga was. And it was different than any other workout that I had ever done.
I liked it so much that I asked my dance coach if I could teach the girls “Yoga Fridays” during our warmup stretches (I was an officer on my dance team in high school). By the time I was seventeen, I knew that I wanted to be a yoga instructor. I had to go through college first, but after—I knew what I wanted.
“Yoga?” Some people ask. “Like, I know it’s good for you and all—but why?”
My answer: because it’s life-changing. One hundred percent. Yoga shifts our perspective of the world. It helps us to see more clearly; and most especially, to see through the murky lense that we like to put over our metaphorical eyes to hide the deepest parts of our souls. Yoga tears us free. And that is painful and earth-shattering and scary—until you can suddenly move past that pain and find your way to your true self. That’s where life begins to get good. And then—it gets great. You can deal with pain better. And you can more fully feel joy.
I’ve come to realize, through all these years, that yoga is hard. Yoga is commitment. And yet—and yet—yoga will become the most important thing that you can do for yourself. Period. Yoga lets you see more clearly than you ever have before. If you need something in your life that gives you so much more than just physical movement, come try yoga with us. Find your own personal compass on your mat. And, ultimately, you will find your freedom.