Yoga

I jumped over a hurdle yesterday, one that I've been scared to do, but I did it. I went to my first yoga class that cancerlifeline(.org) offers. It was in West Seattle at the 8 limbs studio. I was scared to feel my pain, my sadness, to be silent and listen to my heart, my feelings, my spirit. My spirit that doesn't change, that hasn't changed, that no one or nothing can change, my resilient self, and be with her. And I knew there was a lot of grieving in this place. Before I went I spoke with my friend Gen, and I said something about me being changed, a different person. And she said tentatively, not really, you're still the same. And I am. And I am not. There is the new normal, or the new me, that Survivors speak of. And I agree. And yesterday in yoga, I got to disagree too. I'll get to that moment in a second..But first
I had to walk in to the class. Up three flights of stairs, I was tired by the time I got up there. I was the only one there for a few minutes and was worried the class was not going to happen. But then the teacher came. As I introduced myself and she asked questions about my journey, I told her that I hadn't wanted to be in touch with myself since I was diagnosed. And I was going to probably cry a lot through the class. She told me that was totally fine, and to do whatever I needed to do. Some people even sleep, she said.
Sure enough, as I layed on my mat (my own mat that was being newly christened) in a room of other women that all had had cancer or were care-givers. We have all been affected by cancer. And I just bawled. I sobbed. I breathed, and sobbed. I dabbed my tears, and sobbed some more. "Heather, there you are." There you are sweet one. I was so sad. I have gone through so much, in such a little amount of time. So, we did a relaxation technique and the gentle yoga made my muscles quiver and shake as they remembered that they are supposed to be long and lean, not taught and bound. Opening, my muscles, my heart, my soul, my child in me, my scared adult, my fear, my love, my future, my present.
The one thing that drove me a little crazy was that the teacher through the entire class spoke, and she spoke of being present, and not thinking in the future. And this probably was helpful for the care givers in the class. But to me, I thought, how could a Survivor get through what we have to get through if she isn't living in the present. My yoga class was a world of difference for this one reason. I think I have really learned and gotten closer to reaching the idea of being in the present. I wanted to tell the teacher this. To tell her that she was putting fear in the room by talking about not being in the future and not worrying about the future. But I didn't. Her words got me out of the present, and so I was able to stop crying, and I just pretended that I was in a room with someone that was trying to brain wash me and I wasn't listening to her anymore. I just sank deeper into my own breath and my own stretching.
As my little body moved with the ebb and flow of my breath, I found that the fear that resided in the idea that I've heard over and over, that I will be a different person, I decided that was a bunch of balony. I am not a different person. I am still Heather, just a Heather that has grown into a deeper place of spiritual deepness. One that has had to learn to open when I didn't think I could open anymore, and be still when I didn't think I could ever be that still, and I got to grab tightly to Heathers hand yesterday. Soon, before I know it, I will be up and running again.