I’m about to get all honest up in here. So grab a seat and possibly pour yourself a cup of tea. Let’s get real.
This past weekend I moved from my adorable apartment (that I shared with my college best friend and dog Baxter) to a 2 BR/1BA apartment I’m sharing with a complete stranger off of Craigslist.
This person is also a guy.
Before you start commenting about how terrifying it must be to live (and share a bathroom) with a randO male or that you’re about to call the Boston police department because you’re scared for my life — hold up.
This was entirely my decision. And while I’m happy with my choice, that doesn’t make the process of moving any less stressful, tiring, physically demanding or mentally exhausting. On top that I’ve been trying to get back into a somewhat normal day-to-day life routine ever since the colossal Tornado of Summer ’15 hit.
It goes a little something like this …
Wake up, drive to the studio, teach, call mom, eat, possibly take yoga, shower, teach, eat, catch up on emails, teach, shower, hang with friends, eat, watch trashy reality TV shows, sleep.
Today I went to one of my favorite hot yoga classes. A 60 minute Hot Power Fusion class at CorePower Yoga in Medford (a mere 5 minutes from my new place!!) Per normal, this class was filled with buckets of sweat and ample stretching … oh, and today … tears.
Luckily my face was drenched and too rosy red for anyone to notice — not that I would’ve cared at that point … this was my practice and I had a mild emotional breakdown, so sue me.
As we began our first salutation I could tell a huge difference in the way my body moved. Just last week while I was attending the same class, I felt weak, exhausted and could barely keep myself moving. I blamed it on (“the al-al-al-al-alchol” … kidding) the overwhelming stress I’ve been under recently. Bills, jobs, relationships, moving, issues with my car … the problems just seemed to multiple like an ameba, only visible.
Today, however, was different — I felt strong. And then it was time for savasana … and this song played,
As I lay there, eyes closed, arms and legs splayed out on my mat and heart pumping … I started to cry. Instead of attempt to push out the racing thoughts from my mind, I felt an overwhelming since of relief.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have moments where I wanted my old life back: A stable income and job I had worked my tail off for. My relationship and someone I truly saw a future with. Being roommates with my best friend and the adorable Bax.
But as I lay there — my body temperature finally regulating — I listened to the lyrics of this song. And, as corny as it sounds, they radiated with me.
I love my new home. I am surrounded by an incredibly supportive group of friends and family. And I have my health; my body is able to practice yoga, run long distances and teach spin.
And if it takes a song like this during savasana for me to break down and realize all of this, well then, bring on the tears.
Truth time: Have you ever cried in yoga?? Spill in the comments below.