Updated: Mar 22
I called my bonus mom to process my big emotions. She said, “it’s ok. Call it trauma.” I felt empowered again. When I let myself sink into that truth, a burden was lifted from my chest.
Like anyone would do, earlier that morning I wrote a strongly worded letter that ended with "I hope I can forgive for my sake."
Then I got on my yoga mat in my pajamas. I placed the letter at the front of my mat next to yoga teacher Rachel on a Zoom recording. I listened to my teacher’s voice. I breathed. I held my coffee cup of Mardi Gras King Cake coffee with its cinnamon and vanilla aroma. I looked at the white paper, my black coffee, the black-and-white mat, and started to heal.
My personal theme for the class was forgiveness. But guess what? I didn’t forgive when the class was done.
What no one will tell you about yoga is that after a while there will always be a point when it’s the only thing you have left. Luckily for me, God is happy to grab a cup of coffee and sit right in front of me on the mat. I am almost certain this time the sheet of paper was right in God’s lap.
What no one will tell you about God is that after a while there will always be a point when you still struggle like Job and God's answer won't feel satisfactory. You will teeter the tightrope of faith and doubt. You will almost never be healed in one sweeping motion.
I once heard someone say grief lasts half as long as the subject of grief made you happy. I just can’t say that is true because grief sometimes begets anger, and anger will eat you up until its gnawing on your very bones.
In more ways than one, yoga gives me stronger bones for the gnaw of anger and stronger balance for the tightrope of faith and doubt.
Yoga and God will not fix everything in a 75-minute class or a devoted prayer, yet each day both give me strength in body, mind, and spirit.