By Eryn Kirkwood
Yoga is like a romantic relationship. I’ve been through a slew of non-optimal (that’s yogic for ‘failed’ or ‘bad’) relationships, so when I finally stumbled across one that fit (at 3 9 years old), I was blown away by the expectations this crush exceeded. Had I made a vision board of my ‘dream guy’, I would have missed out on the most endearing and adorable traits that this man has to offer. Those gifts weren’t even on my ‘dream guy’ radar. Simply put, had I been the master of my own destiny, I would have sold myself short.
I compare this anecdote with my yoga practice. At one time, I decorated my yoga space with images of graceful women doing enviable postures. But this isn’t how my asana journey has manifested, at least not yet. And I accept that because what I have inherited is so much more. On any given day, god knows better than I do what’s in my best interests; when I show up for practice, or for life, free of expectations and open to receive what arrives, then the long-term results surpass the instant gratification of my often myopic desires.
Looking back on how far I’ve come and how much I’ve gr own since I first stepped barefoot onto this path over a decade ago, I note how getting out of the driver’s seat and letting god take the wheel has benefited me in every possible way.
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October 2017
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