Yogis in San Diego

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Today marks a couple of milestones. first, today is the beginning of my yoga teacher training. Second, today is the last day of the longest break up of my life.

    At 8:30am, I sunk into the yogic lifestyle. Really, I had always practiced the asanas (postures) but never knew the philosophies behind the moves.  This training (or rather, receiving) couldn’t have come at a better time. In the middle of beautiful San Diego, I promised to re-learn myself, my breath, and all that was lost in the fire I just walked through.
   The year up to now had culminated into a Pandoras box of lies, deceit, hurt, pain, and dead trust. Imagine getting sun burned in the dark. It’s strange, unfair, and plain nonsense. That’s exactly what I was put through. I won’t get too detailed, since I have talked about this in earlier posts.
    Anyway, it was time for an emotional juice cleanse. There are 10 of us in the intensive teacher training, each with our own story and reasons. All day we explored our “Self”. The more I listened to the other women warriors in the room, the less I felt alone in my mind. It felt like a security blanket was being woven under us that would hold us strong toward eachother. From the woman overcoming cancer and 4 divorces to the mother-daughter teams to the girl who came all the way from Belgium on her own. We were together for a reason. In yoga, I learned that as pieces are ripped out of us, nature must balance out and replace the emptiness with the new. Here I was, getting my new fill of hope, love, support, and faith. I’m done struggling with someone else’s issues.
Namaste.
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