Wednesday, January 27, 2016

500 Words. Day 8. A process of becoming.

It’s official. 

I’m a yoga teacher! Technically I’ve been a teacher since last March when I graduated yoga teacher training and they handed me a piece of paper with a shiny gold border that says “Certified Yoga Teacher”, but tonight I signed a contract to teach and received a key to the studio.

This isn’t to diminish the classes I taught my friends last April and May, or the impromptu yoga sessions that I’ve done over the past several months. I was a teacher then, and i’m a teacher now. I’m simply thrilled to actually have my name connected to a class where strangers are going to show up, giving me the opportunity to share my practice with them. 

I’ve wanted to share my practice since the day I graduated, but I didn’t feel capable. I was limiting myself, and my environment was limiting me. Does that even make sense? This is the space to delve deeper into that, but that’s not a story that I want to give a voice to this evening.

Perspective is a mother. 

As I’m writing this, I’m realizing that it’s taken six months of being on my own for me to be comfortable enough to take the first steps towards being seen as a yoga teacher. I’ve slowly been working on respecting and honoring myself and my practice enough to be in a mindset of openness and vulnerability. It’s scary shit to make the moves to put myself out there. 

But I’m doing it. 

I don’t know what will happen now, but I’m happy. Thrilled at the possibilities. 


Over the past few days, several people have mentioned to me that they've noticed a change in my demeanor and my attitude. That it’s been a slow shift, but I seem to be a happier person, in a much better place than I was when I was in my previous relationship. Growth is a gradual process it seems. 

First, there was the subtle, internal recognition that I was shifting, molting. It was uncomfortable, yet necessary. I needed to surrender to the process, allowing myself to break down, become overwhelmed by the old, outdated shit (that is the best word to describe the heavy emotional baggage I was carrying unconsciously). Ever so slowly, I started to recognize the possibility of something lighter, brighter and happier within me. The awareness that I am responsible for my perceptions and actions. I was becoming reacquainted with a part of myself that I had neglected and abandoned because it didn’t work for other people: the essence of my self, my “bigness”.

I’m not hiding myself anymore. I’m done trying to fit someone else’s preconceived idea of how I should “be”. It’s no longer about what makes other people happy. It now has to be about what makes me shine, what helps me grow, and what I can do to be a better person.

It’s a process of becoming. It’s my process of becoming. Becoming me.

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