Why I Fell In Love With Yoga
I feel simultaneous joy and calm. Open in every fibre of my being. Pushing to open my heart. Pausing as my body shifts from one pose to the next because I’ve stumbled into some deeply rooted emotions. The happy-fear that comes with seeing, with feeling something buried.
It’s like digging for a sand dollar on the beach when you’re a kid. You know that you’re more likely to dig a hole in the sand that the water will eventually fill back up; but on the off chance that you’re digging away at your hole and you find a sand dollar? You’re excited. You’re happy. You’re afraid to catch it or you’re afraid you won’t catch it before it buries itself again.
That sand dollar finding, the gut churning blood pumping feeling. That discovery of a deeper layer, of something hidden inside of me. Me.
It makes me feel that anything is possible. That I can do anything. I can climb mountains. I can let go of hurt.
I can love and be loved with endless possibility.
I can exist anywhere.