Earlier this week, I sat down and wrote out some thoughts about my yoga practice. I didn't realize how many feelings I was having until I started writing. There were a lot of different directions and offshoots, but they all led me to the same place:
I should take less classes.
If you don't know, I usually take 3-4 classes a day. I take the 6am, teach a couple gymnastics classes, take the noon, teach some more, and then take the 7:45 and the 9 if there is one. It's been my rhythm, but I've felt something nagging at me for awhile now, and I wanted to flush that out.
I started thinking about when I first started practicing and how it made me feel - not so much physically, but emotionally and spiritually. It was soft and satisfying and grounding and freeing all at once. I spent almost every practice "thinking greatly about the greatness of God" (John Owen), meditating on a verse or attribute of God. Even power classes felt deeply restorative to my soul.
Lately, I've felt more disconnected from my faith in my practice. The other day, when I was just outside breathing and moving, I felt very drawn in to the God's presence - the movement felt like responsive worship again. I wasn't doing anything but creating the space to meet God where I was in that particular moment.
I started asking myself what my motives are in practicing, especially some of the difficult postures and variations I do. I think it's wonderful and exciting to push into learning new things and discovering what the body is capable of. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with handstands and deep backbends and full expressions, but I do think it's important to keep asking myself, "What am I doing here?"
Am I trying to learn more about this body formed by the Lord of all creation? (Psalm 139)
Am I tuning out the cares and concerns of this world in order to see and hear Jesus more clearly?
Am I stripping myself raw so I can come to the cross for healing, wholeness and grace?
Am I experiencing what it means to have been dead and made alive ?
I've been told I must have discipline to be so dedicated to my practice, but I think practicing less might actually be evidence of a greater discipline in my life. I think it will be more purposeful, focused and intentional. Quieter, but still beautiful.
I recently read both of Addie Zierman's memoirs, and I have a few of those quotes in mind as I write and reflect now
Faith is a lot like Wisconsin: a series of repetitive ups and downs, the natural rise and fall of the road that stretches before you. Boring. Beautiful. Sometimes ridiculous. When We Were on Fire
I wish someone had told me then that eventually the fire would go out and it would be okay. That it didn't mean my faith was dying. I wish someone had told me that the fire doesn't make me whole, that I am whole because of Jesus, whether I feel Him or not. Night Driving
Love doesn't always look like romance and faith doesn't look like fire and light doesn't look like the sun - and this matters. Night Driving
And this verse, running strong through each practice this week:
For now I see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known. 1 Corinthians 13:12
I am already fully loved and fully known; this is my comfort. And my hope is that one day, I will know what it is to be truly united with God through Christ and that is the best fullest expression I could ever imagine. I admire those faith and practices that are like Wisconsin. Maybe it's because I was born and raised there, but would it really be so bad to live an entire life like that?
Boring
Beautiful
A little ridiculous
Me, at the beach today, finding joy in the Giver of life and breath and everything
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