Shavasana in the City... by chubbyskinnybrowngirl
March 9th, 2015
There is Freedom in Movement
Omgsh, Friday was “one of those days”!! The last thing I wanted to do Friday night was go to yoga. I’d been through a hellish kind of day. You know those days where everyone kinda feels off, last minute hiccups seem inescapable and nothing really goes right?! I barely made it to 4:30p how the heck was I going to make it to 6:30p Blissology? Instead, I considered going home and numbing myself with a couple glasses of wine, or maybe I would shut off by turning on the t.v. or better yet, maybe I’d stew on the day’s events long enough that I would feelmore frustrated and helpless…sigh. Going to yoga was the last option I considered, to release the built up fatigue, tension and negativity gripping my mind and tightening my bones. But I couldn’t cop out, I’d already made the commitment to my girlfriend Kelsey, so like a trooper, I willed myself past my default shitty day options and met her there.
It was only when I was in the middle of that beautiful class…
It was only when I was called to focus on the poses and follow and align with my breathing…
It was only when I started to move that I started to feel in control again.
It’s amazing how empowering movement is. It was only when I started to focus on my own movements that I realized how I had let those others and those things throughout the day steal my focus and rob me of my peace…but as we started to bend, lift and stretch, I could feel the tension riddled deep in my joints finally open and gush out; and with that tension oozing away, so too went my willingness to hold on to it. I let it go, because somehow through the movement and the breathing; it all just went.
Sometimes it’s easier to hold on to resentment, or count the ways that people have treated us unfairly. Sometimes we hold on to those tallied points because they’re proof that we’re right and deserve to be treated better! I’m usually a problem solver by heart. I’m often a person who typically defaults into resolution mode to avoid pruning in a stale pool of discomfort…but of course, like Friday, there are days that I just want to throw in the towel and scream. Had I stayed home that night I’m sure I would have festered and fostered that pent up negative energy. At best I might have been able to quell the negative talk to a quieter whisper or maybe I could have learned to live with it that night like I have so many other nights. But I’m sure by morning I would have only filed away my score card instead of ripping it up, you know keeping it readily accessible for future reference. But not now.
Now, there is no residue.
The day’s events on Friday feel more like a faint memory than an experience because remembering them aren’t stirring those strong feelings I’d had that day. How could it? I released them, actually yoga released me.
I found freedom in the movement on Friday night, and in that freedom, thank God, I started to feel like myself again. <3