“I am thinking about applying for a yoga teacher training,” I told my partner a little over a month ago. “I am not sure I can afford it, but I still want to try.”
“Why don’t you try to taking a class at the studio to see if you like yoga and like their teaching style?” came the grounded, rational response.
But I was not to be deterred. I wanted to go deeper, to understand the history of yoga and how the practice might help me find balance and grounding in the many moments of the day when I felt anxiety-riddled, desirous to return negative or fiery energy, and generally overwhelmed by how little control I really had over the surprises the universe sent my way.
“You really don’t do things in halves, do you?” my partner mentioned when I told him that I had been accepted and wanted to give the training a go. I believe my response may have been something akin to the sound “hmmmph” and the word “ha!”
Of course, he was completely correct. I am an extreme kind of person. If I have an idea, I can become obsessed by it. When I am excited and passionate about a pursuit, I dive in fully, regardless of the temperature of the water.
And so for this training, I jumped in cannonball style.
I arrived Friday late afternoon, yoga mat, bags of stuff, and vulnerable heart in tow.
I sat in a circle of women, feeling unsure my counterparts and myself.
Would they love me? Would they judge me?
We shared vulnerabilities, intentions, and hopes for our selves and our practice. we spent 20 hours together over the course of three days, moving and stretching our minds, bodies, and hearts.
At the end of the final day, we sat in a circle with knees touching. One by one, we turned to the woman beside us and said the words, “What I see in you is…”
Tears rolled down cheeks and a box of tissues was passed around. I felt the transient beauty in the moment and was so filled with joy that my hear was full and no tears would fall.
My inner critic informed that my teacher was sure to think I was unfeeling and unworthy of this practice, and I could feel the shame rising to a boil inside of me.
And then a pair of warm, loving eyes looked into mine, and I heard the words, “What I see in you is grace.”
My heart and my eyes filled. Something I could never believe in my self was being reflected back to me with honesty and sincerity. I wanted to believe it, and in that moment I did.
I was grace.
And now I share what I see in you, for it is what I see in.
What I see in you is joy and sadness; strength and vulnerability; patience and desire; hope and possibility.
What I see in you is a person deserving of all the love you can handle and then a little bit more.