29 Years
“If you’re forcing it, you’re not flowing,” I heard Susan say in my ear with just the right amount of love and just the right amount of tough love.
If anyone could get me back into a yoga studio, back onto my mat, and back into my body, it would be Susan. (Considering she got me there in the 1st place almost 5 years ago.)
“Where are your thoughts at?” she continued to usher our class. “Whatever you’re thinking right now, DROP IT. Let it go. Sigh it out!” she urged, as she exhaled loudly and deeply from her belly, prompting us to do the same. And I DID do the same. But it felt like I vomited something out in that heavy sigh. I looked down between my hands in plank pose surprised that nothing had actually hit the floor.
“Keep letting it go. All of it,” she sharpened, “Be here. Now.”
I exhaled loudly again. And there it was again. That heave. That heaviness. Like black sludge falling from my parted lips. Like that tar-slime in FernGully oozing its way out of me. I sighed harder. I continued to exhale louder and louder until I couldn’t visualize that black gunk anymore. Until my breath became clear.
By savasana, I felt wrung out. Like a wet towel. Dry of every drip. Of every thought. Until there was nothing left for me to let go of. As the lights dimmed, I closed my eyes and tried to rest.
“Now... after all of that release...I want you to focus on receiving. Now... just... receive.”
As she uttered the words, two cool towels were draped gently over my feet. And I felt Susan’s soft touches as she squeezed my toes, and began to slowly rub my legs and arms down.
The word... the moment... the comfort...flooded up in me. And poured out.
She stayed there with me. Holding one of her hands over my heart and her other hand over my third-eye-center. Until my breath finally began to smooth. And my tears ran dry.
And in those breaths, I realized how much I’d unleashed over the last 7 months. What I let go of.
I’d given up my home, my job, my belongings, my sense of security, my daily eating schedules, and even sleeping schedules. I’d released crippling thoughts, past mistakes, toxic relationships, deep wounds, even deeper doubts, worn-out patterns, restricting binaries, expectations, time, generalized pressures of existence, YOU NAME IT. I have thought it. And I have tried my absolute hardest to release it.
But in that one word...“receive”... I realized how much I’d been missing.
That I’ve only completed one half of this very important equation.
And it didn’t seem sad. Nor overwhelming.
It was just me. And my friend. In this moment together.
All had been released. And the only thing left for me to do was receive.
And the only thing there for me to receive was...love.
I hope year 29 involves more receiving. Fostering what serves me, not just releasing what doesn’t.
Not just loving. But being loved.
Not just giving. But accepting. Not just closing old chapters. But opening new books.