When one has a moment of inspiration, something happens. The inspiration takes hold and all areas of our lives have the potential to be touched by it. The inspiration may have been something so small, that if we weren’t tuned in we might not hear it, or perhaps even discount it. The whisper of the muse, the feeling you can get from a song, a certain turn in the weather, a call from a dear friend, catching a moment between strangers—the list goes on. But what one deed triggers can be infinite—just like those commercials where one good deed begets another.
Feeling invigorated by my trip to Austin, I decided to resume and return to my yoga practice. Out there where the sky goes on for miles, it was like gulping lungful after lungful of air, all the perceived shackles of stress around my diaphragm released and my body remembered the last time it felt that way. In that expansive place on my way home, I decided I would get myself to a yoga class at my earliest opportunity.
And yes, I returned home and resumed the rest of my life—it would have been too easy to ignore the spark of inspiration, the tiny voice inside me that was testing its new microphone—“Hello? I thought we were going to yoga! hello? Testing … one, two, three …”, as part of what I realized on my mini retreat was that I don’t take enough time to water my own garden, especially as the mother of a toddler. Heeding that voice inside, recognizing it for what it was—the voice of inspiration—I checked the schedule at Exhale (formerly known as Sacred Movement) in Venice, California.
On the way there, I could have made several excuses, all leading back to what becomes routine: not committing to meet your own needs. The voice of inspiration can easily be drowned out by the strum und drang of the daily grind: schedules, bank statements, traffic, phone calls … being an introspective person by nature, it would be very easy for me to retreat into the haven of my own home and not venture out unless it was absolutely necessary. “It’s necessary,” the voice inside me said. I drove on, past an accident, glancing at the dashboard. I anticipated being late; perhaps I should turn around? I tuned back in. “It will be fine—I’m halfway there. What would it be like if I gave in now?”
Tuning in is another intuitive tool I use all day, in my work and personal life. How would it feel? Our own guidance systems often hold the answer. “Get there. It doesn’t matter how. You need to do this now.” I drove on.
I made it there, and stepped into class. I met eyes with the teacher in a silent apology and hand gesture for being late and she silently communicated her welcome with a smile. I unrolled my mat and settled into my practice.
Of course, I’m grateful to the teacher, Keri, who taught the class, who reassured me without words that I had come to the right place and encouraged me to leave the noise behind as I stepped onto the mat. But in an effort to acknowledge my part in this, to empower myself, I feel proud of myself for showing up.
As the noise clears, I realize all the areas that are touched in my life by simply following my bliss. My family, career, friendships bloom. My home flourishes as inspiration ripples out from me in the form of integrating more beauty and harmony. Balance appears, tangibly and intangibly, inside me and manifests outside of me, in my work. My intuition, a muscle in an of itself, strengthens and finds the courage to ask for more, to speak louder for what it needs, getting me back to another class. I expand outward, feeling bliss grow like petals on a lotus flower. I remember what I loved about my practice before I became a mother and had to learn to give of myself. I was learning to strike a balance, yet again, between give and take.
