So, yesterday I was enthusing about how much pleasure, empowerment, and perhaps even enlightenment I have discovered through yoga. I wanted to expound further on this personal phenomenon: particularly, how it relates to the present moment in my personal development.

People have been telling me that I should do yoga for at least the last 15 years. Many have said that they could see me as a yoga instructor. As a pagan and general student of any and all spiritual practices, I was hardly unaware of the discipline of yoga, but as with any school of knowledge I’m unfamiliar with, I was always daunted by uncertainty as to how to begin–and I think I’m similar to most people in that I feel wildly uncomfortable attempting any physical activity with which I’m unfamiliar when I’m surrounded by people who I perceive as being much more familiar with it than I. I felt safe in taking the leap into weightlifting way back in 2001 because I had the aide of a friend who basically gave me free personal training, so in addition to instruction, I had the shame deflection of a gym buddy (at least, I did in my critical first few months). Trying to wrangle such an arrangement with yoga is much more tricky, given its class format; not to mention that here in SF there is a true embarrassment of riches where all things yoga are concerned, and as a Libra I suffer from option paralysis in every aspect of my life. So suffice it to say, it was easy for me to talk myself out of trying, for many years.

Flash forward to 2015. After a solid 13-14 years of dedicated gym routine, I hit a wall. My workouts felt tedious, monotonous, boring, even irritating. The thought of dragging myself up those stairs, into the locker room, and onto the weight floor became something I dreaded more deeply the more I pushed myself. Of course I wanted to stay fit and toned, but I was in serious need of something new and different. I took one of my passes good for a “first class FREE” at Laughing Lotus and signed up for a session.

Wow. To say that I got what I wanted is rather an understatement. Naturally, I chose a class with an instructor I knew I’d enjoy (in this case, the fabulous Roche Janken–who, in true San Francisco fashion, I met (and stood posed next to) at an all-nude photo shoot for the Folsom poster back in 2012), and even though I felt clueless and bumbling, I managed to get through an hour of fairly intense practice without feeling like I screwed up too much. Even better; I felt invigorated, my body awakened, my mind both clear and buzzing, my spirit soaring. YES! I knew I wanted more, and much to my delight, a cursory search on the LL website revealed an offer for a $39, 30-day trial for beginners. Perfect for lil’ old beginning me, right?

Un/fortunately, yoga proved to be addictive for me. I dove into my trial month, attending classes 3 days a week (I personally didn’t consider that to be “a lot,” but common opinion disagreed with me), loving it more and more and feeling utterly called by spirit to continue…

Yet thirty days passed, and with it, my (relative) immersion into this new practice. For several weeks, I considered my options…I researched free yoga options around the city. I examined the various pricing structures at LL. When I listened to my inner voice, I knew that what I felt was not just a resonance with the practice of yoga, but with the specific energy of Laughing Lotus: their expansive yet pragmatically spiritual teaching perspective, their ambiance of a neighborhood shrine (myself being a 13-year fixture in the Dolores Park area, I really appreciate locations nearby which engender familiarity and connection with other locals). It fascinated me that their little temple sits literally in the shadow of a towering Lutheran cathedral–I was raised in the Lutheran faith, though even from my earliest memories it never stuck–everything about this place felt like it was calling to me.

Sadly, it is another sign of the times in which we live that my only true impediment was budgeting. I have (up to this point in time, anyway) been reticent to mention this in public forum, but due to slow business coupled with a sharp increase in the rent being charged to my bosses (actually a DOUBLING), my amount of work hours in my 13-year place of employment has recently dropped from full-time to part-time (30 hours a week). Thank the Divine that I’ve still been managing to squeak by so far, but certainly, adding an additional $99/month expense to my life could not be justified. (For the record, I only pay $49 a YEAR for my gym membership, so I can easily keep that regardless of how often I use it.)

I needed help.

Anyone who knows me well knows that I endeavor to live a life which is, as much as possible, free of shame. I also attempt to live free of pride, in its most pernicious implications. I am not too proud to ask for help when I need it; and furthermore, I reasoned, as an established neighbor, it certainly couldn’t be unreasonable to think that some sort of special arrangement might be made…?

I waited.
I hemmed and hawed.
I squirmed at the thought of my own audacity.

Then, finally–with the rationality of my reasoning confirmed one night by my dutiful fiance–I composed a carefully-worded email to the proprietress of Laughing Lotus: the graceful woman who had first invited me to come take a class. I thanked her for her encouragement, and then I humbly and honestly explained my circumstances. I asked her whether there might be a discounted rate for neighborhood businesses, or perhaps a work exchange program. As it turned out, there IS a (very) small work exchange program, and it so happened that an opportunity was present for me to enroll. I did so, with great enthusiasm.

Which brings me back to what I was writing about yesterday:

Trust your heart.
Unshakeable Trust.

I place my hands over my heart, fingers interlaced, thumbs just below my clavicles. I breathe. I feel an expansiveness radiating from the energy center beneath my fingers. I try my best to let my thoughts fall away, and I breathe in the present moment.

A journey has begun.