I wanted to start this blog documenting the second month of teacher training the second I got home on Sunday, but I made myself wait. I wanted to give myself time to let things sink in and find roots in. It’s three days later, and things are still sinking in, but here we go anyway.
This second month of training was very different than the first. I knew people going in, so my nerves weren’t on high alert about being by myself, but because I knew people, because I’d done yoga with them and listened to them and talked to them the month before, I was nervous for a whole new set of reasons. I was nervous to know the answer to the questions: Now that they know me, will they like me? Will they want to be my friends?
Let me just say that the group of men and women that I’m in training with are some of the most wonderful people you’ll ever meet. Some were sick with sinus infections, some talked more than before, some talked less, some opened up, and some took time to rest alone, but every single person was present, and met me (and everyone other person) with smiles and an open heart. My worries and nervousness had no place in the real world to live, and after just a few minutes being back in the studio, all of that faded away.
I’m sure we each had a very different experience this weekend. My experience was physically challenging–I had to focus on poses and alignment that I often will ‘cheat’ in because they’re difficult (chair pose is not yet my friend, but someday it will be!), and I had to really be aware of what my muscles were doing when I was doing something as simple as breathing. Physically, I was pushed to find my personal wall, and then to push past it just a little. It. Was. Awesome. Being sore for those reasons made me feel like I’d done something. I wasn’t being a couch potato (as I’m prone to be after a long day at work). I was working toward being physically healthier, and I loved it (even while my muscles were screaming at Erin to let me up).
While the physical parts of my training were amazing, and I’m so thankful for every second of the physical practice, the mental and emotional parts of training are what needed to sink in before I could write about them. Even as I write, they’re still sinking in, and changing, and I hope they continue to do so, but I’m going to write about them anyway.
I won’t go into all the details about how I came to this place, but I want to share what I learned about myself a little. I learned that who I am–all the little quirks, and wonderful parts, and not so wonderful parts, and those little things that aren’t quantifiable, but that make me me–is neither good nor bad, neither perfect nor imperfect. I’m just me. I was born, and I’ve lived my life making choices both good and bad. I’ve experienced joy and sadness, pain and pleasure, failure and success, and none of those things make me any more or less than I “should” be. I am who I am, and that’s awesome. I’m short. I have dark blonde hair and an asymmetrical face. I have wide hips and small feet. I love to write and sing and dance and draw and sit and swim and rest and play. I am me, and this weekend was a huge step toward not only accepting the woman that I am, but also finding joy and peace in that.
The things I’m learning in training are helping me settle into the woman I am, the woman I’ve been, and the woman I will be, and for that I couldn’t be more grateful or more excited.