Rekindling My Inner Yogi

Lacey, here!

Over the past week, my morning routine has slipped into place (can I get an AMEN!) and I've really rekindled my love and joy for Ashtanga yoga.  I practiced this variety pretty heavily for about 5 years. It started through attending a class at a friend of the family's gym.  There was an incredible instructor there who really helped me get into my groove with yoga, and I adored it. Then college hit, and I had nowhere of real worth to go. The college yoga class was extremely basic and very...ugh. I don't know how else to explain it other then the few times I tried to go, I simply sighed with disappointment and said something along the lines of "ugh".  It just wasn't what I experienced for all those years back in that dim room.

But, during my yoga-ridden phase of life, I bought a really good book (sort of life an instruction manual), with the intentions of having it as a reference when I did yoga alone in my dorm room.  That was, until I moved into a forced triple and couldn't take more than 2.5 steps in my room, let alone set up a peaceful space for my meditation and movement.  The book "Ashtanga Yoga: The Practice Manual" by David Swenson has truly been a lifesaver in helping me remember my sequences and positions.

And yet, years later, here we are. I'm 25 and married, starting fresh in so many ways, and finding my passion for the Movement. So, last Monday, I did the first Surya Namaskara that I've done in years, and I took the deepest breath, and I found that relaxing peace I could never really find through anything else other than prayer. And I'm thankful. So very thankful.

I went through some of the sequences, struggling to "weave the tapestry of vinyasa". It wasn't the prettiest, I promise. But it felt really, really right. My body may not be not where it was when I was 16, but my mind remembered, and it's oh-so-excited to get back, physically & mentally, to where I was before.

My husband leaves for work around 5:30 or 6, so as soon as he walks out the door, I turn on the fireplace, move the coffee table, turn on the subtle music, and dim the light. This is my peace. It's my hour in that unforgettable dim room, the sweat dripping down my face, and the threads of breath and movement intertwining.

So, why do I do yoga as exercise? Well, that's a more technical post for another day, and I'll get to that. But for now, I'll just let my inner yogi makes it way out.