WARNING, THIS WILL BE REALLY CHEESY AND WLL NOT ACCURATELY MAKE MY POINT! Read at your own risk.
I interrupt this regularly scheduled radio silence to talk about something dear to my heart that is extremely difficult to describe (and by the way, thanks for your patience while I’ve been having sort of a tough and busy time, I’m back and I’ll give you a great recipe one day soon).
I have just returned from the Ashtanga Yoga Confluence. This was a gathering of many senior teachers plus about 300 devoted practitioners in San Diego for four days of practice and talking tradition, philosophy, history and love of Guruji. Now, I was a little skeptical about attending this event. While I love workshops, usually the huge group scene (of any type, not just yoga) makes me feel the content is watered down, or somehow homogenized for the common denominator. But recently I’ve been feeling a little lonely in the practice. With teaching and working and traveling and family challenges, I just felt scattered and not so connected with the bigger picture of my chosen practice, and so, to San Diego I went. And wow, I’m so glad I did.
It’s pretty wonderful to practice in a room full of the combined energy of so many practitioners and such luminary teachers, the discussions of history and tradition, philosophy and devotion, laughter and tears along the way was incredibly inspiring. But the amazing side effect of the practice for me, one that keeps cropping up wherever I go, is the finding of my “tribe”.
Those of you who know me in the ashtanga context might not believe this, but I was always pretty shy. Put me in a room full of 100 people and I’d be likely to stand in a corner alone the whole time, not knowing how to start a conversation or join a group. Even in smaller situations I just found it hard to connect. It’s not that I’m a loner. I love people, REALLY! But I just always found it hard to meet them.
But since practicing yoga, and specifically ashtanga, I’ve become something of a social butterfly in comparison. I have friends and acquaintances in so many yoga communities. Almost wherever I put my mat down I’m sure to get a few hugs, and I’ll probably find myself breakfasting/lunching/juicing with one or several people who bring big smiles to my face. And some of these have become truly dear friends, not just acquaintances, over the years. In fact, I have so many yoga “homes” I don’t really get to to visit them all as much as I’d like. For example, how do I choose between Portsmouth and Boston when I’m visiting family in Beverly? I always want both! And at the Confluence I had friends from North Carolina, Encinitas, New York and even transplants from Boston.
So, what changed? Well, partly, ashtanga (and yoga in general) is a unifying practice. We share a passion, and it creates an automatic connection and subject matter. And, so many different types of people practice yoga, you’re bound to find some you relate to. But for me, I think the yoga itself also worked a little magic.
As my confidence in my practice has grown, so has my confidence in myself. Something about building physical strength and steadiness and confidence has given me the confidence to “put myself out there” in other parts of life. At first this confidence was a bit shaky. A good week and a few great practices meant I was comfortable in my skin and related to the world well, an iffy week and some emotional or physically difficult practices and my newfound wings would kind of fold in on themselves.
But over time my shaky ground has stabilized (I’m seriously beginning to feel cheesy talking like this by the way). I am finally beginning to find strength in my yoga practice, rather than just bendiness, I am developing a steadier, deeper breath, a more stable mind that’s allowed me to breathe through difficult emotions and put my leg behind my head rather than follow a scary thought to a teary ending (all over my yoga mat). And my confidence in other aspects of life has followed suit. Ok, I mean, let’s be honest, I feel things very deeply and I will always be a crier, it’s just that now I can feel those things and still make it through my yoga practice or my day (finding time to cry later!)
Back to the point. At the Confluence recently, I was surprised to find myself sitting down among random groups of strangers and just starting up conversations. I was a little less surprised to find myself reconnecting on a deep level with yoga friends I haven’t seen in a while. In a large group of 300 people I found my soul soothed and uplifted, challenged and inspired. And I felt decidedly less alone in my joys and challenges along this rather strange path. And I realized that I am both very different and very much the same as the nervous person I was a few years ago. Turns out, my personality didn’t really change, I just became a lot more ok with who I am, which is both empowering and possibly more comfortable to be around, resulting in more human connection, which I really crave.
Oh my gosh, I feel so passionate about this subject that I find it incredibly hard to write. Perhaps that’s the reason it’s taken me over a year to get the idea of finding my people into print! And now that I have, it’s so very schmaltzy and not even quite fully expressed.
But it’s like this: I think in our world today we spend so much time looking at computer screens and really functioning in isolation, that we must purposely seek more human connection. It’s an amazing thing to see the “sameness” in all of us, even among the differences.
So, reason number 8,796 (or so) that I love yoga: I finally found my people. Even if they are spread all over the planet.
What about you? Do you cultivate connection with a group of people who share a passion? What’s your favorite side effect of yoga? If you haven’t got one…time to get on the mat!
With love and schmaltz,
Laura
