I have always been fascinated by the human body and its capacity for movement. Growing up I was always active. I especially loved gymnastics and anything that had to do with dance. Later, in my early twenties I enjoyed the aerobics craze, and delved into classes that allowed me to move freely, especially if it included the power of music (power step, dance step, etc). As I explored more, I dipped into capoeira and breakdancing. I also loved hiking hilltops and walking for hours through cities. It was during this time of mad discovery that I stumbled upon Yoga. From the very first class I felt a spiritual grounding. It gave me a sense of peace, like the way the sun feels on your face in the midwinter cold. It was grounding, and allowed me the stability I desperately needed in those experimental years.
Fast forward to University, marriage, children and numerous country relocations. Needless to say, I have lost my breath. I have become disconnected. I have lost touch with my body, even though it screams out to/at me.
Circumstance, fate, whatever you may call it, has led me to this place; from there to here.
I accept my journey and reconnection to Yoga will be difficult, but I welcome it open arms; with open mind. I give thanks for this moment (this blessing) to focus; to ‘find myself’ (?); and to let my body break its way out of the shell life has made around it.
It is time to listen and feel my own breath.