I have had it only a few times, a sudden sense of arriving at my own front door, of being home without even knowing that I’d been away. I felt it twelve years ago, when I first unrolled a yoga mat in the back corner of the Baron Baptiste Power Yoga Studio in Cambridge. Never mind that the room was heated to 102 degrees and I’d dressed, unwittingly, in sweatpants and a heavy, long-sleeved shirt. Never mind that I couldn’t bend over and come any where close to touching my toes, that I had no idea what a downward-dog was, that my body felt so ungainly and awkward and disconnected from my brain (not to mention my heart) that I spent most of the class sweating desperately and watching everyone else flow through a series of poses that looked at once impossible, and impossibly lovely, to me. I did what I could (which wasn’t much) and knew, the way we sometimes do know these things, that I’d finally arrived at a place I’d been seeking all my life.
There was a part of me even then that dreamed of full immersion. Sometimes, I fantasized about what it might be like to study deeply, to practice for more than an hour and a half a couple of times a week, perhaps even to one day teach this practice I loved so much to others. And always the ever-ready critic in my brain responded with all the reasons why that would never happen: It was too late. I already had a job, a well-paid sedentary one that required me to be at my desk every day. My kids and husband needed me. I’ve never been athletic and never will be. No matter how many years I spend on a yoga mat, I won’t have a “yoga body.” I can’t do a handstand. I’m too shy. Too uncoordinated. Too old.
Twelve years later, and I’m even older than I was then. But I’m also sensing that it’s time to attend more closely to my soul’s deepest longings, rather than to that inner voice that tells me what I’m not and can never be. The truth is, my children no longer need me day in and day out, the way they once did, and my husband is quite able to take care of himself. I don’t get paid to edit books on someone else’s schedule anymore. And a yoga body is not the goal or the point of what I do on my yoga mat (although I certainly appreciate every little bit of core strength I manage to acquire). The reasons I practice, the reasons I keep a mat spread on the floor between my kitchen and living room, have more to do with learning than with doing. I practice yoga because I clench my jaw till my teeth ache, and tuning in to my breath is a gentle, necessary lesson in letting go. I practice because so often I fail at being the wife, the mother, the friend I yearn to be, and learning to accept myself as I am on my yoga mat helps me accept who I am in the world. I practice because I tend toward judgment, and yoga softens my rough edges. I practice because I get so easily lost in worry or regret or plans that I miss the beauty right under my nose, and yoga is a lovely wake up call, my own daily reminder to be fully present in the moment–by-moment experience of being alive.
Early this morning, I threw all of my doubts and fears and nerves and excitement into the car, along with my yoga mat and duffel bag, and drove to the Kripalu Center in Western Massachusetts. For the next month, I’ll live in a dorm room here with a bunch of other aspiring teachers and practice yoga two to eight hours a day. All afternoon yesterday, as I vacuumed and dusted, watered plants and changed the beds, I fought back tears, wondering if I’d been nuts to think I could do this, and how I could possibly have imagined that being away from my home and family for such a long time was a good idea. Every insecurity that’s ever plagued me came roaring back: the embarrassment of showing up for the first day of first grade with a lunch box that was horribly wrong; third grade – the wrong stockings; eighth grade – the wrong friends; tenth grade – the wrong everything. It’s been years since I’ve endured the butterflies in the stomach that always marked the first day of school — but today is the first day of school all over again, and those butterflies knew just where to find me.
Funny, how I almost had myself convinced that I’d constructed a solid, reasonably confident grown-up self — and then all it took was the anticipation of a single step out of my own well-established comfort zone to bring me right back in touch with the uncertain child I once was.
“Nervous?” my own son Jack asked me at breakfast this morning. “Very,” I admitted, “but in a good way. And grateful, too.” As a girl, I took refuge in books and the world of my imagination. Since I didn’t quite fit in, I mostly opted out, choosing solitude and stories over socializing and physical activity, both of which were too scary to deal with. So much easier to disappear than to negotiate the complicated social hierarchy of my more with-it peers or to risk embarrassment in gym class. I was the master of the independent study, the sick note, the excused absence. Given that I also managed to get through four years of college without spending a single night with a room mate, setting foot in the gym, or donning a pair of sneakers, what I’m about to do now does seem a little radical. Or, maybe I’m just finally ready to show up – not only on my yoga mat, not only for my family and my friends, but also for the beautiful, challenging privilege of finding out who I am, who I might, even yet, turn out to be.
(Internet is limited at Kripalu, and my schedule these next four weeks will be intense. I’m a rusty student, with a fat textbook to read and lots of homework to do. So. . .while I hope to continue with a weekly blog post, I may be a little less connected here so that I can be a little more connected with matters of breath, spirit, and awareness. )
What an exciting journey! I’m so glad you posted this because I will honor your month whether or not you have a chance to post! I love why you do yoga and those reasons echo in my heart. You doing yoga and the training at Kripalu will undoubtedly benefit more people and situations than you know. I felt a kinship when I read this even though we don’t know one another. Learn, live and love the butterflies! Namaste, Augusta
Wow! I know just what you mean… I need to get to a place of peace within myself, maybe I should try Yoga too!
Oh, you decided to go for it!! Yeah for you : ) You shared with me in an email you were considering taking the training and now you are. You will love every minute of it. Soak it all in.
I read your book in September 2009, my youngest son had just left for college and my husband had just lost his job. It wasn’t until these two things happened that it really hit me that nothing lasts forever. Your book was an absolute godsend through all of the trials we went through. I’m so glad to have found your blog because so many times while reading your book, I thought does she know what a difference this book is making to so many women?
Both of my sons are doing incredibly well, my husband has a new career that he loves and everything continues to look bright for our family. Through the dark days that i had your book was a constant encouragement, reminding me how strong women are and that I am not the first to go through these trials and I won’t be the last.
thank you again, you are incredibly talented!!
good for you! exciting!
soak it up. btw-you are one of the strongest yoginis I know.
i love to read & journal in that big room on the 4th floor-it’s heaven in there!
Congratulations to you! So many of your words about the inner critic and being a yoga teacher resonate with me. I am certified to teach yoga to kindergarteners through eighth graders now, but would love to go and do a month long training at Kripalu someday. You are inspiring me!
Many blessings to you and be kind and gentle to yourself.
Thank you for all your writings and your blog.
Namaste.
How awesome that you’re doing this for yourself. I’ve been practicing yoga for a few years and just love it. I have the same thoughts about it that you just shared. Have a wonderful month.
This is fantastic, Katrina—so clearly right path, so filled with authenticity, love and… the very essence of yoga. Perhaps one day I will be lucky enough to take a live-and-in-person yoga class from you, but you are already one of my “yoga teachers,” in that you help us unify body, mind and spirit.
XO & Grand Namaste
I did the 3×9 in 2000. You will make some of the best friends in your life. Kripalu is a spiritual immersion and a life-changing experience, a journey to your True Self. Enjoy, drink it in with every cell of your body. Love, love, love!
You are Amazing! You had the courage to have your ears pierced. And the courage to follow through on your desire to be a Yoga teacher. You are such an Inspiration to many people. Looking forward to reading your next blog.
Namaste
Gardener
Oh Katrina! I am so, so, so, so happy for you! It is such a privilege to be able to be as excited as children – and as scared. That is when life is so new.
You are so incredibly brave. Already you are a warrior. I am so happy you have a month for yourself to go within. What a beautiful time to go within – by the time you emerge it will be spring.
Shanti, shanti, shanti,
Pamela
As Bruce said, you are already one of my teachers – one of the most important. In all the matters of what yoga really means. I stand and watch in admiration and not a little awe as you head down this road that seems so incredibly perfect, so full of light. xoxo
Go Katrina, Go!
I love my Body Flow class (combo of Yoga, Tai Chi, and Pilates) and would LOVE to visit Kripalu. What an awesome trip and a great challeng! Hope it is everything you want it to be.
Kudos to you and your adventurous butterflies! I appreciate you sharing your journey. You offer a reassuring reminder to the ‘rest of us’ who are experiencing similar thoughts to meet and honor ourselves as we walk through our days.
Enjoy!
we will miss you but know that you are where you need to be. You will be wonderful and I wish you the best on this next part of your journey…may it be long and full of many more experiences.
Namaste!
Your bravery inspires me that there can be new beginnings at any age. Congratulations and good luck. I can’t wait to hear about your new experiences.
I know exactly the feeling you are writing about! Good luck!! I am sure you will arrive on the other side of this experience with a renewed sense of self and purpose.
Good for you! Being brave is so difficult sometimes!
Have a fantastic, life changing time! I’m so excited for you. You keep blazing new roads, reminding me that ‘old ain’t what it used to be’! We’re just gettin’ started!
Happy New Start!
Judy
Awesome! Good for you. It’s never too late and you are never too old to try new things. You have inspired me! Thanks!
Just show up and breathe- what else can we do? Namaste’ Jo
Thank you for inspiring me once again. I have heard wonderful things about the experience at Kripalu. You are nervous only because it is important to you. I will be thinking of you often.
K
This post, and what you are doing, is an inspiration in so many ways. I’ll bookmark this to read every time I say to myself, “it’s too late.”
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.
Yes. This is why we practice.
Heart open, breath it all in…
Much metta to you.
Have a wonderful adventure, Katrina! Sending peaceful and inspired energy your way…
Katrina
You are a constant source of inspiration to me and many others. I hope you have a wonderful month at the yoga center. While you are gone my book group will have its first meeting to (re)read The Gift of an Ordinary Day and discuss it. I can’t wait to introduce my friends to your wonderful thoughts, insights and style of writing!
After all the address changes, we always know the way home. Take good care.
you always say what I need to hear. Truly. Thank you. Congratulations on your journey to yourself — at Kripalu.
Blessed Be. grace
I remember when I left my husband for a month to experience my yoga teacher training at Kripalu. It was an amazing time in my life and I returned with a new sense of purpose, love and joy. I wish you happiness in every moment, Jai Bhagwan!
Good for you for taking the plunge. Hope it’s grand!
Just checked in to check your blog and want to send you joyous energy at school enjoy
i wish you well on your journey… for a long time i have also focused on “letting go” until recently i was struck when immersed in reading about mindfulness… i now am focused on “letting be” and this is my wish for you, too
I’m eager to hear all about your experience, and I certainly admire your courage.