Those were the words my instructor uttered this morning, while guiding us to release forward into pigeon, heads pressed to the mat, arms and leg outstretched and open.
It was a bit of an intense class this morning. The practice was led by a woman who demanded much more in the way of precision than I had previously experienced. As she adjusted each participant equally and mindfully, we were encouraged to remain steady in each pose for minutes at a time.
Halfway through, I was working so hard that sweat was literally dripping onto my mat (TMI?). My arms were trembling; I questioned if I could continue at this slow, excruciating pace.
Yet, for every minute that it seems impossible to continue, I always find that yoga evens itself out. As we laid to rest in pigeon, the room was full of unique, differing, and audible breaths. And the instructor said, “It’s ok. We’re at yoga.”
Simple and succinct, she said everything that needed to be said. In the studio, in the heat, out of the world, out of stress – yoga is my safe zone. It doesn’t need to be in a specific place, with a specific instructor, for a specific length of time. I only need to be present and to try, and it is enough.
Where is your safe haven?