My body felt so heavy this past Saturday. Not physical weight but the icky weight of sadness. It was the ache of anticipation I get at the thought of saying goodbye to someone I love.
These someones are the kind of people I love so much it hurts. My sister, niece and nephew. Those who know me, know they are my heart. They are moving across the country……shit.
I wanted to give in. To settle into the sediment of sadness and wallow in that ooey gooey heart ache — But I made myself move (swearing under my breath as I walked to the gym – hating every step along the way) I sat on the bike, making sizeable sweat puddles.
And then I played yoga.
I made my body twist and bend, getting my legs in the air seeking physical lightness. My hope being physical levity would then translate to lighter, happy-go-lucky feels. I’ve used the practice as medicine for a broken heart many times before. Not to fix it, but to live through the breaking. It helps….a little bit.
I’ve found the physical practice often sets the stage for emotional release. Whenever I flow on the mat it clears away the emotional excess or “drama” leaving space for the necessary feelings fighting their way to the surface.
As to when that uncorking of emotions happens, it’s almost impossible to guess. Could be while I’m walking down the street, on the subway, watching TV, or my personal favorite – right before I go to sleep — Nothing beats a tear stained pillow and muffled, gargly versions of Celine Dion’s “All By Myself”.
All of this is to say, in the midst of sadness I moved. I did it anyway. This was a small victory for me. Every time I choose to move in the middle of feeling crappy I win. I win a sense of peace. I gain an iota of mastery over the push and punch of emotions.
This is also the kind of person I want my niece and nephew to know; the aunty who dedicates herself to the things and people she loves.
In this way, the practice of yoga makes me a better person. In this way, my niece and nephew inspire me to be a better person. Ultimately, this is what I hope yoga and relationships do for myself and others; make us better versions of ourselves.
I still sulk. I still have moments of wallowing in self pity, but I see them lessening over time. Thanks to the choice I have to move past it. Whether it is choosing physical movement, writing, or making sure I run around the backyard with my niece and nephew until I fall to the ground with them piled on top of me, I have a choice.
My heart still hurts at the thought of them leaving, but I wouldn’t want it any other way. I would rather love someone so much my body and heart ache at the thought of saying goodbye. How else would I know I love them as much as I do?
I like how yoga slowly helps me be a better version of myself. I like how being an aunt makes me a better version of myself. I love how these two things help me to build a bridge to get over myself.
With beautiful things like yoga and family in my life I am grateful. They help me to be better – even when I’d rather wallow and sing Celine….
