I went to a yoga class tonight in Austin. I sought out two teachers who are known in Austin to teach very advanced classes, but with a cool style. This class was held in a super sweet space, called Vuka Co-op. It's a very Austin type place, super funky, cool, and a little gritty. I loved it.
I don't know if they saw me coming with my super tight hips and knees, but for whatever reason, this class was ALL ABOUT HIPS. I was in agony. I thought I might be able to slink through class, quietly avoiding the more complex hip openers. But then we did Albatross. And that was the end of me.
Here is a photo of Albatross pose. No, not a photo of me.
This pose starts out as a hip opener, as you tuck your shoulder underneath your knee. Then you shift all your weight to your arms and shoulders and lift. It is so hard for me to do because my hips are tight. I fought it, I struggled against it. All sorts of emotions came up. I was pissed. I was angry that my body wasn't doing what my mind wanted it to do. I was disappointed and sad. I was frustrated. Then came tears. Tears of the big alligator variety. I knew that in my mind I wanted my pose to look like the beautiful yogi in the photo - and I knew that I didn't. Head in my hands kind of crying. Super sexy.
But, once the tears were over, I had a little epiphany. I tend to avoid the poses that I need the most. I hide from my own imperfection and avoid the things that make me really uncomfortable. This is a pattern that I want to stop in its tracks.
This is why I love yoga. A practice like this one is like a mirror right into your deepest soul. It's painful, uncomfortable, and not fun. It also allows you to grow, evolve and become more of what you want to become.
There are many parallels for me between Albatross and Whole30. A lot of times I want to settle into what is comfortable for me (read: binging on high carb food when I'm sad, drinking too much wine when I want to relax, hiding my real feelings behind the face I think you want to see) rather than being really me...imperfect, with tight hips, and a body that has been through an awful lot, who is growing and evolving.
I'm not going to be able to move tomorrow, but I'm going to bed tonight knowing that I am ok. I am ok just the way I am.