“It Finds You”

It was a crisp November day in New England.  At least, that is what New Englanders call it – “crisp.” Being from the South, it was colder than most winters I had seen. The trees had already let go of their colors and were barren and stark against the gray sky. Not unlike how I felt about my life. It seemed as though it, too, had purged itself of its colors. Everything I had thought to be real about my life was as distant that morning as an old photograph – you know, the ones you find in a forgotten box in the corner of an antique store. Portraits of weddings or family reunions – once important events generations ago, now brittle, faded and cracked.

It was on this morning I found myself driving South, ironically, trying to outrun my circumstances. [Now, here's the thing I've learned about my circumstances, no matter what they are: A) they always change and b) my circumstances are not my life. As of right now, I can write those words and believe them. Of course, this is only because I currently like my circumstances today.] But, on that “crisp” morning, not only did I not like where I was, I couldn’t see any way out. It was the first time since early recovery that I had felt like that – broken, powerless – desperate.

This time, however, it wasn’t alcohol that drove me to this place. No, this time I was powerless over my circumstances (people, places and things). No matter how hard my twisted little mind tried, I couldn’t find any way around what was happening to me. This was life – on life’s terms and I didn’t know what to do.

Actually, in retrospect, I guess I did know what to do. I had put enough time together in recovery to realize that everything my friends in the program and sponsor had told me was true – both good and bad. When I work the 12 steps and apply the principles in the day that I am in, my life gets better, regardless of my circumstances. And for no other reason than the gift of desperation, I continued to follow the suggestions I was given by those who knew where I was. It was by the grace of my Higher Power that I was staying sober – and mostly sane.

Now, where was I? Oh yea, I’m driving South trying to outrun my circumstances. It was Saturday morning. The men’s meeting in town at the church with the blue door was over and it was two hours until the noon meeting at the Catholic church. Honestly, I didn’t want to go to either of them, I was in ‘escape’ mode.

Riding shotgun that day was a brochure from the yoga studio in town. I had picked it up earlier in the week on my lunch hour from work. I had toyed with the idea of taking yoga for several years but never followed through. I wasn’t sure even what yoga was or why I had thought about trying it. I think I assumed it was going to be another fitness regimen and I needed something to do indoors, as those New England days would be getting shorter and “crisper.”

Brochure in hand, I checked my phone for the time. Perfect – I had 15 minutes until the next class. I had 15 minutes to make it to the sporting goods store, buy some clothes I thought would be yoga appropriate and make it to class. No problem. Besides, I had nothing better to do and needed something to occupy my fractured mind.

I remember few specifics from that first class. I don’t remember the sequences of the poses. I had no idea what style of yoga I was practicing (although, I did realize I needed a lot more practice). I can’t recall any other people who were there.

What I do remember is the space – beautiful in both look and feel. It was warm and calming. There were candles and fragrances – a picture of the strangest elephant I’d ever seen. It made me smile and think of my two girls and how fascinated they would be by ‘Ganesh.’

I remember breathing. I don’t think I had ever been as acutely aware of my own breath. It felt as if my soul were being nourished.

I remember savasana. I remember my teacher, Kristina Berano, saying “let your thoughts pass like clouds.” I remember how hard that was – how full my mind was of the circumstances which had led me to class.

But most of all, I remember the feeling of peace I found there. It was a peace I had only experienced in recovery – one I usually found in a meeting or a conversation with my sponsor. The peace I had vainly searched for in a bottle – always out of reach.

Maybe it was because I was ready for it. Maybe it was the calmness of the space, the stillness of the meditation. Perhaps, it was that I was just ‘being’ and not ‘doing.’ Whatever the reason, my serenity began to grow that day. My recovery became a little deeper, found a little more space. I had been given a gift – another tool in my toolkit I could use to help me get through the circumstances of my life which were beating me down.

After class was over, I quietly rolled up my mat and let the other students exit the practice space. Then, in all my calmness of being…

I rushed over to Kristina, told her it was my first class, how amazing it was, how excited I was, how I was going through a really difficult time and how much I needed this, how I just happened to have the brochure in my car, asked when the next beginner’s class was – all in one breath. You know, I showed all of the restraint and moderation of an addict.

Kristina looked at me like I had three heads and politely remarked that not many students have such an ‘aha’ experience their first time in class.

When I told her how grateful I was to have yoga, she said something that summed up what had just happened – and helped me undertstand my journey was just beginning.

“You don’t find yoga,” she said. “It finds you.”

There is no higher recommendation I can offer for any yoga class on YogaVibes. Whether you are just beginning or need to breathe some Spiritual space into your practice, I recommend you experience Kristina’s class, Beginner’s Moderate Kripalu Flow at YogaVibes.com.

One day at a time,

Matt, a YogaVibes Ambassador