This weekend, I received a letter telling me I wasn't selected to present at a yoga festival I applied to teach at. It's humbling to admit and I wallowed in hours of weepy self pity, for fear I was in the wrong line of work. That my passion should just be a hobby and I should throw in the towel now. I journaled, cried, called friends, sobbed to chad, read pema chodron and woke Sunday morning, puffy eyed, to teach.
It's so crazy to feel so fully sometimes. To be vulnerable in so many areas and work to help people heal themselves, therefore having to always focus on my own healing.
And so this morning, two days after such a huge release, under this cancer/Leo moon, I feel so much gratitude for this tenderness rejection created. I'm doing simple things this morning, playing with Drew, laundry, picking up an always messy home, and my heart is so full. Thankful for a home to clean, healthy kiddos, a partner who is the best listener and support I could ask for, a career to grow in & with and close friends who truly care.
I'm so glad I keep going, despite myself, because I have shit to do. If I wouldn't have shown up to that class Sunday morn, I wouldn't have been able to give those people my specific brand of medicine. And we need each other's medicine! It was one girl's first yoga class ever. That's my favorite. If my self pity would have kept me from that, it would have contradicted the whole reason I wanted to teach at the festival in the first place. It's so easy to forget it's not about me.
To help people realize their peace, I have to realize my own, despite all outside circumstance & opinion. So I'll keep showing up.
Teacher, Seeker, Lover of all things interesting.