After a full weekend of yoga in Dallas, it's so nice to be home with nothing but house chores and school on my to-do list for today. I feel like I am moving slowly this morning while the practices we did through the workshop settle into my muscles, bones, and thoughts. A yoga weekend with my teacher means a lot of heart work. Not the muscle heart, but the heart we refer to when talking about how we feel/our emotions. He's not the type of yoga teacher to spew off "yogic phrases." You probably wouldn't ever catch him saying something like, "breathe into your heart," because he doesn't have to. He really allows the practices we do to speak for themselves, and wow, they do. With just a little time to reflect here, I can't help but feel nostalgic and at the same time amazed at the way life unfolds. I started writing this blog after moving out of New York, going backpacking through the Himalayan mountains in India all before ever stepping foot on a yoga mat. I even talk about my first class on this blog. When I moved to Houston from Dallas, I really had no idea where it would lead. I can't help but think everyone must have these connections in their lives. These weird coincidences that nug and remind us that maybe nothing in life is random. We all have our experiences, our memories of the things that have made us happy, broken our hearts, and made us in some way who we are today. Hoping to learn from it all, we look back only so we know how to move forward, more wisely, more consciously, and hopefully more lovingly.
My attention can't help but turn to the date. The remembering done this day is edged in our minds and hearts as we recall where we were, emotions, and feelings. We do this so we learn how to move forward.
My teacher did say over the weekend, "your future is the past, modified by the present."
I'm grateful for this space to reach out, connect, dig into my thoughts a little and let them land here.
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