“Yoga ruined my life.” I stated this to a friend.
Confused, she responded “Really? But – ”
I needed to interrupt her to clarify. “What I mean is life as I knew it was ruined. Maybe yoga had to ruin my life in order to save my life.”

Disclaimer: by yoga I don’t mean balancing upside down or touching your toes. I mean the philosophy, the seeking, the daily practice of consciousness, the facing of even the most grim emotions and self-truths (when all the cell phones and emails and TV’s and shopping and eating and people aren’t there to distract you).

Back to the phone conversation. I realized this sounded dramatic and in that conversation I felt drama. So be it, I was in a sassy mood. Every song on the radio was singing to me. But who was I to “blame” yoga, speaking of it with a capital Y and insinuating it has the power to save or ruin lives? Apparently I was someone who felt like a phoenix rising from the ashes. I felt like someone broken open.

By broken open I mean conscious of my feelings — ALL of them. Escaping none. And there were many, confusing and conflicting. I was conscious of the recent losses and my grieving. Conscious of the light and new beginnings as well. Conscious of my role in the reality of my present life. And conscious of the narrative I created along the way. I was conscious of my pain and I was raw.

To be clear, I would have never chosen to be broken open. Who really chooses pain? We choose freedom and we seek happiness and therein lies the rub: the pain of transformation to get there. I wasn’t courageous perhaps because I was afraid on some level of the magnitude of loss. But nonetheless a series of life changing events occurred. The depth of feeling is unlike anything I’d ever imagined or experienced before. From that excavation of feeling is emerging a stronger me. It was in there all along, but got buried.

Far preceding that phone conversation I recall a pivotal time in my life when this breaking open began: the first day of my yoga teacher training. Although I had no idea what would unfold, I began the process of self-awareness and the path to my own authenticity. (Note: you can roll your eyes at words like authenticity the way I used to at times long ago before it had more meaning for me. I’ve come to realize clichéd words and phrases are clichéd for a reason – they are effective descriptors of powerful concepts.)

On that first night of yoga-teacher training D’ana warned us: this was the beginning of the end of being fake, which has since served as a powerful reminder to let go of image (See my blog “Being Real” for more on that topic). I remember we sat in a circle and had to state our name and reason for taking the training. Simple enough. I remember a student who, when it was her turn, broke into tears: “Yoga saved my life” she explained.
I felt a bit uncomfortable thinking, ‘What did I get myself into?’ Intuitively I knew it was something big. When it was my turn I froze. I didn’t have the words to explain why I was taking the training. I mumbled something about self-care and then later berated myself for not being more profound.

Years later, I know how to articulate those feeling more clearly. I can now understand how my subtle body pulled me like a magnet to the training because it was tired of the analytical brain keeping it from healing. My brain couldn’t say it aloud that first day but my body knew. The body always knows. I’ve been on the path of articulating and defining my message ever since. I believe I AM a vessel for messages of healing, just like you are a vessel for your own message, whatever it may be. As a psychotherapist, as a yoga teacher – and now as a fresh faced writer exposing myself! – I want to help you understand and define your message too. Whether you tell yourself yoga saved your life or ruined it, whether you master a handstand or barely touch your toes, there is power and meaning in the philosophy found within the practice of yoga, of dedicated consciousness.

This is the first in an ongoing series of essays about my process of letting go in order to get real. May my own transformation and insight help you follow your path and be a vessel for your message. Perhaps you’ll see how breaking open leads you to greater wholeness as well.

In lightness and darkness and everything in between,
Rachel

p.s. “Never say never” is one of my favorite clichéd expressions. What’s yours?