Discomfort is inevitable. Suffering is optional. It is said that you never come to the practice of yoga in this life unless you’ve practiced it in lives before. I’ve been through many incarnations in my short time this go-round, all of which lead me back to this beautiful practice of self-discovery.
I first found this practice in the Buddhist high school I attended in Halifax where we were introduced to sun salutations in our religious studies class. Intrigue ensued, but then life happened. My practice lapsed as I completed a degree in mining engineering from Dalhousie University. My husband Jeff and I moved to Calgary (his hometown).
Jeff was often away working in the field and I was in a brand new city. We happened to move just down the block from Santosha, my current second home, when my bestie Kristin mentioned we should attend a class. Eager for distraction, we came to ashtanga and it whooped our proverbial and physical posteriors.
That was January of 2008. Again life happened as it has a tendency to do with patchy, non-committal practice, and I meandered though my new life here with little direction or purpose. It was March of 2010 when the posters went up and I finally decided to take my teacher training with Rameen Peyrow. Sessions started in September and by March of 2011 I was a registered teacher. I have always been a practitioner at Santosha but in November of 2013, Candace and Alastair gifted me the privilege of becoming a teacher. Now to the important stuff…
Oh the yoga pleasure and pain. For many moons I forced my body into shapes and positions with no attention to vibrancy, only ego, and then one day I broke. I broke my body and through injury I found my humbled place. The gentle softness like water, gliding peacefully through the path of least resistance but the most destructive force in nature nonetheless. Strong like a tree whose roots run deep but can ebb and flow with the wind as one learns to roll with the punches in life. There is no longer right nor wrong in my practice, in my teaching, in my life, only what is and what is not. This magnificent practice of self-discovery – let your freak flag fly.