Back to Om...

I sink my sit bones into the two folded blankets, allowing my spine to reach towards the sky, my shoulders to drop, my chest to lift, I press my inner palms together in Anjali Mudra.  We chant our first Om. I am no longer in yoga class.  I’m transported back fifteen years earlier with Cole in my belly, warm and safe and I am chanting Om as I did everyday, several times a day while I was pregnant. 

I'm about 7 months pregnant. 

Moments earlier, I had been afraid to even step back into the yoga studio.  I’d parked my car, forgot my mat, thought I didn’t want my purse but then decided I did, walked back to my car, got my purse, walked up to the yoga studio and as I took my shoes off, placing them on the shelves as I had done a thousand times before my heart raced faster. Where will I put my purse? Which room is the class going to be in?  Will I know anyone?  Will I remember anything?  Will I be judged?  I climbed the long staircase, listening to the familiar creaks under my bare feet, I took a deep breath embracing the smell of sweat, tea, and wood.  I was almost there. 

I got to the front desk, the scariest place of all because this is where everyone knows everyone and hangs out.  This is the whose who of the yoga studio.  I use to stand and chat with Christine and Gary who ran Center for Yoga all those years ago.  They would go on to start Liberation Yoga on LaBrea when Yogaworks bought Center for Yoga.  Now, behind the desk, a stranger, a blondish, disheveled thirty something with a kind face. 

I whispered my name and the class I was going to, “Stacey Warner, Iyengar.”  

The young woman came alive, “Oh, you’re doing our two week trial,” she booms,  “Welcome. Your class is up those stairs.  There’s a bathroom on this floor and another one near your class. Let me know if you have any questions.  Enjoy your class.”

“Thank you,” I said, wanting to get out of there knowing I’d cleaned those bathrooms every Saturday morning at 6am for over a year in exchange for classes. 

15 years earlier yoga was my life, I received my teacher training at Center for Yoga in Larchmont, now Yogaworks, I went on to do further teacher training with Aadil Palkhivala in the Northwest, and several weekend workshops with Manouso Manos. This yoga studio had been my home. Back then not only was I committed to my yoga practice but I was a successful yoga teacher.  I taught about ten private classes a week on top of my full time job.  I was non-stop up until I gave birth.  The morning I went into labor, I had taught a private client. 

Back in class, we finish the Invocation to Pantajali and the teacher asks us to move into our first pose, Balasana or child’s pose.  This I can do, I think to myself.  Big toes together, knees apart, sit bones reaching towards the heels, arms stretched out, skin of the forehead reaching towards the nose.  It feels like heaven but then my mind starts to go.  Why has it taken you 15 years to get back into class?  What have you been doing?  Why did you give up your business? 

I stop my mind right there and set it straight, I’ll tell you what I’ve been doing.  I had a baby!!! I took care of that baby and chose not to be completely stressed out so I stayed at my full time studio job with healthcare and paid vacation so I could provide stability and there was no time or energy left to teach yoga. I tried! I’ve been raising Cole on my own for the past fourteen years, making sure he gets what he needs.  We moved a bit, trying to get him out of the city, I got laid-off and had to find my way, I shot the beginning of a documentary, wrote an award winning screenplay, got engaged for a millisecond, suffered a ton of loss, started my own business after leaving a secure position and so on…SO THERE!!!!  GET BACK TO CLASS AND BREATHE!!!!

Wow, that pose turned out to be harder than I thought it was going to be. 

Luckily, the teacher asks us to move into Adho Mukha Svanasana, downward facing dog. There’s enough physical work in this pose to keep my mind busy.  I spread my fingers wide and press down between the thumb and index finger, I roll my shoulders back and wide, pressing through the back of the thigh, my heels touch the ground and I find that amazing peace I had forgotten about. As I work my way through the class, every pose is a gift from heaven.  For an hour and a half, I’m not in charge.  I’m told what to do and I do it connecting mind, body, spirit, and it is so fun and I am so thankful for the practice and that I didn’t listen to my ego that was in fear about coming to class. 

In June of 2002, I was planning to move to Bali in February of 2003 to teach yoga and write.  Then one weekend during a Manouso Manos workshop I felt the need to get grounded, that all the meditation and yoga I’d been doing had me floating, so I decided to take an ex-boyfriend to dinner, we hooked up, and I got pregnant.  I knew the moment Cole came into being. 

Instead of moving to Bali, I had a baby and was officially grounded to the most amazing inward and outward journey. 

It’s now been two weeks since I took that first yoga class. I go to class four or five times a week and have pretty much picked up where I left off 15 years ago.  My upper back needs to loosen up a bit and I need to get a tad stronger but other than that, it could have been two weeks instead of 15 years. Except for one huge difference.  I am happier, more open, more loving, and there is less ego.  There is something so beautiful about being older and wiser. 

Today, in the car, I told Cole I would be late to a meeting for his after school activity because I have a yoga class.  It felt a little selfish but the meetings usually start late and drag on I bit so I figured it would be fine. Plus, I’ve grown to relish my me time. I asked him what he thought about it, probably in hopes of easing my guilt. 

“I’m so use to coming first in your life, I suppose it has to change at some point.  It’s ok.  I’ll get us to it,” he said with love and compassion. 

Having compassion for one’s self is the first step to being brave.  It’s acknowledging and honoring the fear, letting it be and then going for it anyway.  Having compassion for other people’s fears gives them strength to find their own courage. 

Namaste!  

I am a Consciousness Coach, if you are interested in learning more about me click here.  You can contact me here stacey@staceyjwarner.com