Yoga is for Lovers (Pssst…that means you!)

Yoga is for Lovers (Pssst…that means you!)

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I met my reflection on the mat and cried, smiling, because she was me.

Not so very long ago I had a dream where I witnessed myself walking into a yoga studio about to guide a flow. (Teach enough classes during daylight hours and your dreamland becomes a precarious terrain of sleep-Surya Namaskars and unsupervised inversions…) As I entered the classroom, I noticed something tucked quite neatly beneath the top edge corner of my yoga mat. To my delight I discovered an anonymously penned love note. Major heart butterflies! (Pro tip: do this for your lover and you will score major swoon points.)

One circadian sleep cycle later, I really did walk into my studio to lead a class. Approaching the front mirror, imagine my surprise when waiting for me on my mat was a real-life love note! I had told no one of my dream the night before. The Universe is just that grand, unexpected, and mysterious.

My mini-miracle in the shape of a mat-side love note was just one token and manifestation of how supremely superb and swiftly the Universe operates…as soon as we decide to opt-in. Time and space, results, and feedback-loops are all just a game. A grandiose Illusion. if you will.  Perception and awareness really are in the eye of the beholder. And the best part is that everyone is a self-decreed winner. Self being the skeleton key for boundless, untethered, soul-emancipating liberation.

But it took me awhile to figure out how Easy Street things could feel. And believe me, I’m still being reminded of this and re-learning this lesson. Over and over again. Any yoga ninja worth their salt in star-hurling knows practice makes…more practice. For a long time, I felt isolated, wondering where on earth my Soul Tribe was. Until I got bored of feeling lonely and like some kind of non sequitur in my own video game life. So I started gathering and collecting. Ballsy and emboldened, I picked new programs, and chose to “level up”.

And—

I failed. A lot.

I moved out of the country.

Briefly.

I painted and skinny-dipped. I performed and protested. I studied, squashed, and skirted Truthisms. I chased the sun while avoiding sunscreen. Broke some body parts and gave my heart away. Mended the body parts and reclaimed my heart. And I found a groove that felt like a fierce flirtation with sunblock and treating food-thoughts-water-dance-and-sleep like medicine. You know, grown-up stuff. (But for reals, wear your SPF kids.) And somewhere in that process, my fellow adventure-cats heard the call. Kindred spirits it turns out are everywhere! Gradually and all at once I found myself surrounded, buoyed up, and veritably steamrolled in Soul Tribe. A collective of cohorts, co-pilots, and fellow cat-wranglers who are nothing less than of totally kick-ass.

Consider this is my love note to you. Come to a yoga class and I’ll slide some prose underneath your yogi toes, but right here across the airwaves just know: You’re in. The answer is Yes.

Thank you for being your incredible, inimitable self.

From my sticky mat to yours,

(Did I mention I love your handwriting?)

Loving you not-so-anonymously,

Maelyn

 

 

Joy beams and good juju!

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