Yesterday I arrived at my yoga class 45 minutes early. Lunchtime classes during the week are at 12:30 but start at 1 on weekends—that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it. With all that extra time I curled up on a bean bag chair in the corner of the studio and wrote. And wrote. And wrote.
It was a blog post full of angst, insight, lightbulbs, commitment to moving forward.
But, apparently, I didn't save it. When the teacher (a woman I totally and completely adore) sat down next to me and we got lost in conversation it seems I must have hit delete instead of save.
I can't begin to recreate what was. To be honest, I don't remember what it was I so profoundly wrote about.
But, after during and after class I had new realizations that sort of blew me away.
In class, these words flowed through my head:
letting go of what you know
It became my mantra for the second half of class. I kept repeating the phrase to make sure I wouldn't forget that powerful thought.
I was practicing next to another teacher, who seems, in some way to be in a similar place to me. Stuck. Not sure how to change things up. We'd talked for a long time about this last week - the desire for new, for different, but not knowing how to get there.
I told her about what the donation social worker had told me that resonated so strongly - that we learn how to be in the world before we're seven and keep being that for the rest of our lives. It's not necessarily who we are, but it's how we've learned to be.
I don't want to be that anymore.
I don't want to be afraid.
I don't want to be anxious.
I don't want to live in fear of falling apart, of anxiety attacks, of panic.
And then, while watching (of all things) The Princess Diaries last night, I heard this: