The dueling voices in my head are up to it, I tell ya.
One is inspiring me to attend as many restorative practices as possible, where I am comfortable and blissed out in the company of other students who are primarily 30+ years my senior. We have no concept of performance as a whole, and treat the classroom as an avenue for creating awareness and space. I’ve soaked up more anatomical and visual cuing from eloquent teachers in hatha and yin sessions the past two weeks than I have in months. And my body feels so taken care of!
Yet, then there’s that other voice, judging and mostly disrespecting my love of restorative because it thinks I need a good workout at this juncture in my life. I have thoughts which constantly remind me that I’m not as thin, strong, or capable in my asana practice as I have been in previous months. And I don’t know where those thoughts originate, because I know at my thinest, strongest, or most physically elite, I ALSO haven’t been content with my appearance.
So from where, truly, does the love of self come?
It’s not from a number on a scale, or keeping to a strict diet, or doing some kind of advanced posture. As much as the consumer, ego driven world would like to convince me that I need to have a dedication to lean muscles, the yin world is reminding me that those views are addictions.
I wasn’t listening last week and pushed myself past the breaking point, resulting in wobbly legs and ridiculously sore body parts. So I softened, came back to the lunar approach, and just loved on the puddle of YUM that is YIN!
Those moments in the restorative classroom when I love on my bones, muscles, skin, and yes, the fleshy stuff in between and around all that, those are the precious moments of YOGA—yolking—connection—collectiveness.