Tonight, as I walked towards my new private yoga client, I got the chills.
Because I was approaching the very spot where I had sat down five years ago, my body in pain from the soles of my feet to the nape of my neck, my spirit dim, nearly dead. And it was in this very spot that my own body worker, an intuitive and generous soul named Shelly, began to work on my body and heal my soul.
It was Shelly who said to me, a few years after her healing had brought me to a stronger place, “I see you teaching yoga. I see you being a healer.”
The journey that followed included countless hours of trainings in yoga, meditation, Shiatsu, acupressure, Reiki, aromatherapy. Deeper still were the countless hours of therapy, of tears, of healing from within and without. Deeper still were the countless hours of self-work, learning to be with myself, through the good and the bad, learning to foster a relationship with my self that was true and kind and loving. All of this, summed up in three tidy sentences, took years of work.
Tonight, then, to sit across someone and offer the practice to them (we call it the “yoga practice”, but really it’s so much more), to pay it forward in this profound way feels ... beyond words.
So all I do is offer thanks to this work and to those who bless me along the way.