If you trace back the line, follow the heartache home, all the way to where pain begins,
it’s always the same.
The same place.
The same answer.


A basic need not being met there. An absence of love, affection, attention, empathy, communication.

And the trauma we meet there stays with us,
some longer than others.
Some of us find healthy ways to release it but most of repress it,
in not so healthy ways.

It if for this very reason that the practice of yoga resonates with almost everyone who journeys into it.

It frees us.

It brings us face to face with the little girl who never received the validation or attention she needed most, or the little boy who never felt good enough.
It stirs up our competitive nature, our jealously, anger and fear.

It asks that we don’t seek to fix it, at least not right away but to feel it,
to sit with it.
All of it.

And we learn, the more we practice, how to accept and welcome all of ourselves onto our mat, the good and the bad.

And the more we accept, the more we release.

We make space.

Some of the most intelligent beings on this earth have never dared to go into their sadness. Some of the strongest people in the world would never step foot into their anger, nor the bravest into their fear.

But yoga awakens all of us, whether to be awakened is our goal or not.

This practice is as humbling as it is empowering.

As healing as it is painful.

It balances us out.

It knows, exactly, what we need when we need it. It points us in the direction of self love and self acceptance.

Not perfection, not control, or freedom from mistakes or a way out of what makes us human.

But balance.

Balance, is what I’m learning.