Leaving Washington, D.C., with its busy streets, constant noise and heap of obligations, was like unstrapping a heavy backpack after a long travel day. The weight I felt alleviated, after my resignation letter was sent in and our storage unit was filled, was significant.
For the first time since leaving college, I was untethered. Free from deadlines, performance evaluations and client critique. Free from commuting, free from elbowing myself through crowded streets, and free from most material possessions.
It was gratifying, and, slightly unsettling. I didn't know what life would look like from here. I just knew I was stepping into the next chapter.
If you’ve been following our story, you know what I’m talking about. In February 2021, in the thick of the pandemic, Kyle and I moved out of Washington, D.C. and moved into a minivan. We spent six months traveling around the U.S. – hiking through exquisite mountain ranges, sleeping in canopy-covered forests, and learning more about ourselves as individuals and as partners.
Fast forward until now, and life looks radically different again. After our trip, we decided to move back to my home state of Colorado. We were lucky enough to buy a house, and we’ve spent the past year settling in. Working on home renovation projects, making new friends, and adopting two very sweet kitties. Did I mention we got engaged on the road, too?
As I consider what it means to step back into the world of yoga teaching and Yoga Humans after a long hiatus, I reflect on all that has happened over the past few years; the radically different ways of existing. I reflect on just how challenging it felt to take each new step.
Often, I’ve turned to the poem The Journey by Mary Oliver, which might be familiar to many of you, during times of uncertainty. In this poem, Oliver talks about what it feels like to take those first few steps on a new journey. It’s often scary, stepping into the unknown, and starting something new. But if you know what your heart is telling you, then all you need to do is keeping moving forward.
This poem is wonderful to bring into a yoga class. Discussing the theme of the journey, is a powerful way to remind students to take the class one step at a time. It’s not so much about the destination in yoga, it’s about the practice. It’s about showing up, even when it feels challenging. It’s about doing what’s right for you.
If you use this poem in class, I’d suggest reading a small excerpt of it while you have your students resting in an opening integration pose, like child’s pose or savasana, and then reading the full poem at the end of the final savasana.
I’m not quite sure where my journey goes from here. I guess none of us ever really do. But I’m glad to be back in the world of teaching yoga. And I’m excited to be back on Yoga Humans, speaking with all of you.
The Journey by Mary Oliver
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and
began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice --
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to
do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voice behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and
deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do --
determined to save
the only life that you could
save.