After nearly a year long sabbatical of deep self healing, growth, learning and expansion, I am ready (and excited!) to take the sacred seat of yoga teacher once again.
Wild Women’s Church is something that I’ve felt our society has been desperately NEEDING since I was a little girl.
So much of modern spirituality was designed by men and for men -- and while I love men and find incredible value in learning from a variety of world religions -- I ALSO see that what most women need goes much deeper than what’s been offered to us.
Wild Women’s Church is my answer to this prayer for something more.
The class is a trauma-informed movement and meditation practice designed to help you see yourself CLEARLY (as a lovable, Divine being).
to unearth your inner wisdom,
to build courage, confidence, and self-compassion,
to love, honor and inhabit your body, and
to feel like the belong exactly as you are.
This is not a place that you come to CHANGE yourself (although, from my experience, positive changes are inevitable), but rather a place you come to love, honor, and accept yourself, exactly as you are.
And while the term *wild* scared me when it first came to me, it seems absolutely appropriate for this class: to be wild means to be undomesticated: to be free of the cultural conditioning that tell us we have to be something other than what we already are in order to be holy, in order to be good.
You see, according to mystics, NOTHING needs to be added to make you holy.
You are considered HOLY from the start:
holy with your anger,
your half-shaven legs,
your big, round belly,
your tears, your laughter,
and your unprocessed grief,
Still holy. Always holy. Never not holy.
The practice is designed to help you remember that holiness and let go of whatever is holding you back from radiating it out to the world.
Last weekend I had the pleasure of pulling out dead things from my garden which has become a spiritual practice for me: slowly attuning to the land and discerning what wants to go and what wants to stay. It’s a little nerve-wrecking if I think about it too much: the lives of innocent plant-life resting in my fumbly hands.
But once I get going it’s life-giving: discerning what no longer has life force and consciously cutting it away. I (admittedly) get a high from piling up the dead things with my dirt-stained fingers and seeing all the space I’ve just created in the soil.
As a child, I liked thinking of God as an intelligent gardener, taking away what’s no longer serving me so She can make new things.
I used to just... sit around … waiting to be pruned, stuffing my truth and hoping (fingers crossed) that that maladaptive friendship would just fizzle or my unhealthy ex would just LEAVE already and I could scoot out the back door while no one was watching.
As I mature, I now realize that while God might be the gardener, I am Her apprentice holding a pair of human-sized shears in my own two hands.
Growing into an almost 40 year old woman has taught me that while death will find me on Her own accord no doubt, sometimes I am the one who must choose what will die:
having the courage to tell that uncomfortable truth
or walk away from a former commitment that doesn’t feel right
or say no to social media scrolling (even though it constantly sings its siren song).
I’m learning that I can reorient the trajectory of my life with every choice I make, according to what feels right for me.
This realization is hard when you have fumbly girl hands that are just learning how to hold pruning shears (that’s why Divine guidance is highly recommended ;)). But I’m learning that being in *Choice* is a necessary part of living a healthy, happy life that is in alignment with who I really am and what I really want.
Trust me, as a recovering addict, I LOVE to cling to things: comfort, people, adoration, old habits, thoughts and behaviors. But I’m learning that doing so is one of the most direct ways I cause myself harm.
And when I can just SURRENDER to the process of letting things go rather than resisting it, I’ve found that what looks like death initially is simply a part of a constantly unfolding process of transformation that my human mind may never fully understand.
God has surprised me multiple times by bringing an old friendship back in a new, more life-giving way, unearthing an old skill I thought I’d never need again, resurrecting my once rocky marriage into a more genuine one: new plants -- surprisingly -- growing in the compost pile.
Yoga is often called a practice that prepares us for the big-D death (which we all will face some day) assuring us that clinging to anything in this world is a one-way ticket to suffering. We are reminded that, while the ever-changing tapestry of life is meant to be experienced and enjoyed, God is the one stable source on which we can rely.
That’s why the practice is so profound: it connects us to the eternal Divine Self rather than encouraging us to look for stability in the shape-shifting world of form.
This week, I let go of three major things that were weighing me down -- taking up room in my schedule, draining me of time and money, and taking me away from my kids -- and while I was scared and shaky at first, I meditated, prayed, wound my fumbly fingers around the shears, and went for it.
And it feels incredible.
Fall is an excellent time to ask what is losing its life force for me? What feels heavy -- as if it’s too much to keep holding -- and what’s keeping me from letting it go? What if my freedom is on the other side of the boundaries that I am feeling called to set?
What I know for sure is that, as the Buddha says, you as much as anyone else in this Universe are worthy of your own love and attention. You have permission to keep pruning your life in a direction that’s in alignment with your deepest core values and brings you a deep sense of joy and purpose.
I wish you the courage to keep choosing what’s in alignment for you as we move into the season of death, deep renewal, and reset.
In love and sisterhood,
P.S. As I have alluded to in my past emails, my business (my marriage, my body, and my family life ;)) have all been in their own transformative death and resurrection process over the last year: you can read the story here.
Yoga Teacher and Student, Speaker, Writer, Mother, Wife, Friend, Daughter, Sister, Human