When I finally untangled myself I was in a deep rut. My self-esteem had withered like a rose left outside in winter. I returned to old behavior. I inhaled to the point where I could no longer breathe. I lost things like my glasses, my keys, my phone and my focus—but mainly lost myself. I had lost my yoga.

 

By Edith Lazenby

 

Guess it happened slowly, my being a broken yogi, unlike my foot, which cracked with a kick.

My right foot was my good foot until it became the worst foot. My left foot has chronic tendinitis but no pain any longer. Walking is no longer natural. Yet, I can move towards my goals today, living outside the shadows that almost buried me.

My ability to engage in yoga physically is gone for now, just as I was getting ready to start again. Honest! I was going to take a community class at the county recreation center where I live. It has taken a few years to get here. Yoga never says no.

But, life said no.

I accidentally kicked a chair and—crunch, I fractured a metatarsal. I teach yoga part time. I have been teaching since 2005. In 2013 I left my husband and my personal practice. The end of the marriage was short, intense and hellish. Back then I wanted to feel as little as possible and yoga tends to deepen whatever feelings I might have and brings them to the surface.

So, back in 2013 I surfed couches for a couple of weeks before I got my apartment, which had a small den for yoga. Back then I blogged all the time and taught. Life had changed; I was alone for the first time in 15 years. My focus changed. I still taught as I do now, but was no longer in the yoga community that nourished me. I had moved. Online dating became an opportunity.

Practicing yoga had become optional whereas before it fed me and was a necessity.

Now what fed me was a yearning for a partnership. And my first post marriage partner wasn’t all bad but was far from good; in fact there was a thread of abuse, rarely physical but definitely emotional.

I call him my ex-hole.

When I finally untangled myself I was in a deep rut. My self-esteem had withered like a rose left outside in winter. I returned to old behavior. I inhaled to the point where I could no longer breathe.

I lost things like my glasses, my keys, my phone and my focus—but mainly lost myself.

I had lost my yoga. I had lost my writing. I had lost my respect for life. But it was doing a single restorative yoga pose that brought me back. The darkness surrounding lifted and I realized I needed help.

I called an old friend who helped me to help myself. That single pose opened the door to where I am today. I have also taken my writing back here, telling my tales. And once my foot heels, I will get on my mat…again.

I inhaled to the point where I could no longer breathe. ~ Edith Lazenby Click To Tweet

 

Edith Lazenby is a teacher and a writer. She believes in taking risks, having fun, and embracing the people she meets along the way.

 

 

 

 

Photo: source

Editor: Dana Gornall

 

Did you like this post? You might also like:

 

 

September Transitions: Pause, Re-assess, Adjust.

  By Melody Lima   September is a time in our lives, off the mat, when we are in transition. The kids go back to school, in the Jewish faith there is a celebration of a New Year, the weather changes, schedules fill up with more activities, the United Nations...

The Little Lie That Kept Going All Day: My Journey to India {Part II}

  By Marcee Murray King   It started with the girl trying to sell me wooden stamps. She was with a woman down in the park near the seaside, where vendors are set up everywhere selling things. The question is always, "Where are you from?" I always hesitate,...

#YogaSelfie.

    By: Kristin Diversi   For the past several years, it has been trendy for people to post pictures of themselves in yoga asanas. Handstands in the snow, backbends in urban landscapes, beautiful standing poses on the edges of canyons and...

She Who is Not Never Broken.

  By Kate Joyner A week or two ago, I had the privilege of sitting under the a sacred mountain in the beloved embrace of India. I was introduced to Akhilandeshvari, an Indian Goddess described as “She Who Is Never Not Broken.” When I got sight of this goddess my...

Comments

comments