Suniray-RYT 500hr

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Memoirs of a Yogi

One day you’re signing up just because it looks cool and you’ve “heard” of the benefits…and before you know it…it becomes your life

 
 

It all started when…

I was seeing my good friend Shawn Rogers, personal trainer and fitness guru, to lose a couple of pounds and tone up. I had just gotten out of a relationship so naturally I wanted to drop 10-20 pounds and get back out there. Shawn had me on a routine schedule at his gym 2-3 times a week working it out. Lunges, lifts, STAIRS, mountain climbers, crunches, squats “you want a bigger booty don’t you!!” he would shout while making me do about 50-100 squats each session. The things we do to appease the male gaze. He was running a business and it was booming. All of his instructors were amazing and offered a variety of workouts from kickboxing and body weight boot camp to yoga and pilates. Shawn had me in the best shape of my life and everyone who walked into his gym saw results. I decided that I would hit the gym as much as possible and try it all. My birthday was also fast approaching so I was going into over drive to meet my mark. I took my first yoga class at “Your Body Your Machine” in Midtown, NY and I will never forget it. The instructor was an older white gentleman and he wore a pair of gym shorts. He was barefoot, I was not. He didn’t have a shirt on, I did. While holding each pose for at least 5 minutes and sweating my ass off, I quickly realized why less was best. I was a hot, woobly mess. I swear to this day that I lost at least 10 pounds in that one session. But I felt incredible afterwards. I felt thinner and lighter and clearer. I dropped everything on the mat; stress, worries, anxieties, disappointments, and a few pounds. It was my first yoga high.

After I gained the weight back that I had lost, (yes it comes back with a vengeance) I resorted to practicing with home videos. I was not confident enough in myself and my practice to walk into a studio and fall on my face in front of a bunch of strangers. I would rather do that alone. It wasn’t until I moved to Alaska that I began to take classes more frequently. Still not very confident in my practice, I hid in the back, typically the last or second to last row. I took the 8pm Hot Yoga class because the lights were dimmed. Now I could fall and get back up without anyone seeing. And more importantly, I could look at what everyone else was doing and try to figure out what I was supposed to be doing. I quickly realized that my eyes were everywhere except for on my mat, but a funny thing happened. The more consistent I was in going to yoga, the more I learned how to do all those poses and listen for cues and instruction instead of following the girl in front of me.

And then there was a yoga retreat. Bali was calling out to me. It was in Indonesia that I learned the true art and beauty of yoga and its contribution to the healing arts. I was introduced to sound baths, Reiki, and a real life healer. This was totally “Eat, Pray, Love” except that I was a middle class therapist from Brooklyn who had never been married, but I related to Liz on so many different levels. When I returned home I knew that yoga would be a part of my life forever. Bali still holds a special place in my heart. The mat became my “Go To”. No matter what emotion I was feeling on any given day I could get down on my mat and leave it all right there. I would sweat it out, stretch it out, and burn it out. My yoga practice became my personal therapy and the one thing I always looked forward to, no matter what. After 8 years of practicing there is still so much that I don’t know. I am learning every day. I am growing every day. Challenging myself in new poses and deeper meditation each day. But more importantly, loving the Goddess in me, more and more, each day.