I cried yesterday. It was a good thing I was at hot Yoga and sweat was already dripping down my body, leaking from every pore, soaking my clothes and mat. We were in bridge pose and Jared was making us do yet another one. Knowing it would eventually end we obliged and pushed our hips to the ceiling, breathed in and out. As I watched my rib cage rise and fall I heard Jared say “The pose doesn’t begin until you really want it to end. That’s when you push through. That’s when it begins” (Or something like that, my brain was foggy, my body was tired, but whatever the exact words were, I connected. It clicked.)
Tears that I pretended were beads of sweat welled up and dripped down my face when I took this yoga advice and connected it to my life. I’ll be honest right now: I’m struggling. I’m 26. I’m closer to 30 than I am to 20 and I have no clue what I want out of this amazing life I have been given. I’m lucky. I have supportive friends and family that are not only cheerleaders but are reality checks too. But having little direction is hard. Right now I wait tables, I helped my friend organize a race that wasn’t quite as successful as we hoped.
I think my pose is beginning now. I want to give up and let go and lower my hips back to my mat, right now. This, this moment, this year, this time in my life is when I need to focus my ujjaiyi breath, pick a drishti and thrust my hips up, make my arms strong and open up to my full expression. What this means, I don’t completely know–but I’m excited to find out.