Coming Home


Just about ten years ago I entered my first yoga teacher training. I was young, wide-eyed and everything about yoga was so very brand new, innocent and sweet. Juicy, too. I remember the smell of the space - Nag Champa meets a whole lot of essential oils. And the way the light hit the curtains or the windowsill and spilled onto my yoga mat. I remember the way a teacher's wording or creative sequencing would effect me for days. God, it gives me chills to think about.

Well, at the end of the teacher training we did a meditation with Deb. We laid down on the floor in the yoga space and she had us deepen our breath. With her words she led us through a series of scenes until we were deep in meditation. By far the deepest I'd ever been at that point.

And she led us to a door where we met our future selves. I was so different yet so me. Long, flowy dress. Calm. Barefoot. Content. Lots of jewelry. A space filled with light and fresh flowers. She gave me advice that I have scribbled in a notebook: Be patient. It's all coming.

I knew I wanted to leave DC and was always, always, always trying to figure out where I was going. At this point I'd never entertained the idea of living in California but that was definitely where my vision took place.
I was in a tough relationship.
I was drinking way too much.
I was miserable at my job.

But this door that she led me to opened and there I was. I wanted to be anything but patient. I want to live there! I want to be her right now! And then a few years passed and I kind of forgot about this.

But I recalled it last night when I looked in the mirror.
In fact, it all came rushing back.
I recognized myself.
The smile lines.
The messy hair.
The dress.
The layers of jewelry.
The calmness.
The contentedness.

And exactly where I'm supposed to be. It wasn't a straight line or a clear cut path to get here. There were a lot of tears, bruises and scrapes but there was also more joy and transfromation than I could have ever imagined.

Life thank you for leading me home and little MB, thank you allowing yourself to be led.

Mary Beth LaRue1 Comment