I started making my way back into the world this weekend. I showed up early at the studio on Sunday morning to get a short practice in and to prepare myself and the space. I probably only practiced for 25 minutes but that was enough because it was the first bit of practice I'd done in over a week.
I woke feeling blue and vulnerable that morning, and as soon as I started moving my body I felt the emotions rise to the surface. I am always amazed at how moving the body through the poses stirs things up. In that sense, I find the practice so useful in helping me to understand and process my feelings. I figured that it was good to be feeling the sadness before students arrived so that I could get it out of my system and pull myself together to teach.
Before I new it, it was time to open the door and welcome the students in. The first thing many asked was how I was feeling and doing with regard to being pregnant. I responded in a vague way with a simple, "I am doing well" and then moved on. Some of the students were puzzled by my reply. However, that was easier for me. I just wanted to tell the whole group at once instead of one at a time. So I began class with the Rumi poem, "The Guest House", and then shared the news. I was doing pretty well up until that point. As soon as I had to say out loud that I had lost the baby, well, that is when I felt momentarily overwhelmed by the emotion. Sharing the news verbally made it all the more real and meant another level of acceptance. I was sure to point out that I am doing well. Even though this was an unexpected experience and outcome, I have great hope for what the future holds. I also shared that it is the practice that gives us the strength and courage to open ourselves to whatever life brings us. I really believe that it is about faith and trusting the process, trusting in the Absolute as John Friend would say. So after a few tears, I pulled it together, we sang the invocation, and got on with class. I think class went pretty well. It was not my most focused, clear-headed class but it was real.
I was truly moved by the compassion and empathy of the students. One student shared with me at the end of class that she knew this was a loss for me but that she felt it was a loss for them also because they felt this little baby was their something wonderful too. As soon as this student shared that sentiment with me, I burst into tears. Thankfully most of the students had left by that point.
I think what I realized is how intimate a regular class can be and is. A weekly class is like a family get together of sorts. We come together for an experience to share and show up as we are: good, bad, happy or sad. That's the beauty of the Kula, we embrace each other as we are, puffy eyes and all.
In honor of this little baby and for some sort of closure, Jason, Liam and I picked out and repotted a beautiful red hibiscus plant into an aqua-colored ceramic pot. My hope is that this plant will bloom and thrive and we will be reminded of the precious beauty and gift of life.
Moving forward with hopes high and the door of my heart open wide.