by Sara Snyder
I remember the moment so clearly. I was a yoga newbie and still trying to pronounce the Sanskrit names for every pose I struggled through. I loved each class I took and every experience that yoga offered me. Then one day it something different happened…
I was on the ground enjoying corpse pose after hot yoga. Eyes closed. Acknowledging the sweat dripping across my chest and arms, but resisting the temptation to wipe it away (but it tickles!). Melting into the ground. Letting my gaze drift to my third eye. I had been here before…many times. But suddenly, she spoke.
It’s me. Are you listening? You are right here. Be with me. It’s me. Shh. Don’t move. Stay. Here. Behind yourself. Within yourself. It’s quiet. And safe. It’s time for you to trust me. Now let go…
The voice was clear and distinctively mine – yet I hadn’t heard it before. I carried on with my night and the next day knowing something had shifted, I just wasn’t sure what to do with it. So I went back to yoga.
That time, I forgot to set my intention, but I immediately felt warm on the inside. As my arms stretched forward, limbs on my mat, I tried to bring my focus inward. But I couldn’t. So I moved through the poses. My balance felt off, yet my body felt strong. I noticed my eyes glancing around, peeking at others. I tried to focus more - smile, move, hold, release, breathe. I couldn't stop thinking about a conversation I had and wondered if I’d ever talk to her again.
An hour later my body was soaked as I rested in svasana. That’s when it happened again. I fell back. Inside myself. I could see the shape of my eye sockets. I could see the darkness. The black of my closed eyelids. I was looking at myself from inside myself. And then I heard her voice.
Sara. It’s me. You are right here. Can you hear me? Are you listening?
She didn’t say anything more – not like before. But this time I was ready to listen. I wanted to listen. It was me. The girl inside. What did she want to say? Will she say it? It was peaceful and I liked her. She was kind and soft and patient.
Shortly after the namaste, I peeled my body from the soaked yoga towel. I knew I didn’t give that practice a solid effort. The svasana wasn’t honored as it should have been. I didn’t honor her as I should have. My thoughts wandered too much – to the time, what I wanted to eat, about work the next day, that boy that I liked. That’s how I lost it – my presence. But I knew I could get it back – get her back.
She's now my friend. I am my friend. I turn to my yoga mat, I journal, take spin classes, go for walks, and sit still to find my meditative state. I stay active and I learn to be still. I listen to what’s happening inside -- I notice what feels good and what feels bad. My whispering intuition is becoming a bold voice begging to guide me. And I let her.
Decisions are easier, life is less agonizing... and I never spoke to that guy again – I knew there was no point. I am happy.
Praying is asking for God’s help. Meditation is listening to God’s answer.
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