I sit here in a Bed & Breakfast in Boulder, Colorado. I am far from my husband and children. Far from my safety and comfort of friends and home and office and dear clients. And I feel that in my heart as it shivers and crunches over the unknown training to come. I’ve done thousands of hours of in-person group training over the course of my yoga and yoga therapy training. And yet still… still. I return to this place on the spiral.

I traveled. I arrived. I am here. Kind of… Because I’m not fully here. I’m also waiting for the next thing. Back and forth. Here and next. I jump forward and back. Nope… it’s not a jump. It’s a lurching. Definitely more of a lurch for now.

Closest to the surface of this fear and unsettledness, I am scared of seeing the very people that I’ve felt safest with. The very people from whom I’ve learned acceptance. And yet once again, back with the same people, I am embarrassed to be me. Ashamed that I’m not more “part of things.” Hidden in the wings and not wanting to emerge. Yet also making that wrong.

My tricky and oh so beautiful mind. It knows what it needs but also fears that what it needs “isn’t right” or “isn’t normal.”

Miles down the road. And an old visitor.

Come in, old visitor. Come in.

Large groups frighten me. They expose me. They create my relative inferiority. Relative to others – maybe. But more so, relative to me at my best. At my clearest. Can I feel safe in them? I am sure that I can. I know that I have. What has learned can be over learned. Or alter-learned. I know that.

But what has been learned anew can also easily be forgotten if not practiced. And I have not practiced in 10 months. I have not practiced being in big, large, new groups. I have not practiced being exposed to others outside of my comfort zone. I have not practiced moving differently or thinking differently beyond one person – one very trusted person – watching me.

And it terrifies me. It saddens me. I let the tears roll. I do not wipe them away. May my heartbreak for me be welcome. May it fill me with the love that I need here.

I breathe.

And I wonder.

So why do I do it? Why am I here? Why did I come?

I came for the people. I came to be heart touched by these stunningly beautiful others.

That I remember. Clearly. From when I decided to do this way back in the spring.

But there is more. More that I had forgotten until now. Here. On the ground. Sitting in the unknown of tomorrow and next.

I came to remember what I’ve forgotten.
That I am safe beyond my known circle of home.
I came to remember what I’ve forgotten.
That I can be seen exactly as I am.
I came to remember what I’ve forgotten.
That I can be accepted exactly as I am.
I came to remember what I’ve forgotten.
That I can try new things. And screw up. And be perfectly imperfect.
I came to remember what I’ve forgotten.
That I haven’t truly forgotten.

I came to practice.

I am in practice.

May you hold yourself in compassion and love as you practice today. I will do the same. Returning over and over again. As many times as we leave. We return.

With you. As you are with me,
Rachel