Sometimes, well, oftentimes, teaching yoga is the best (and often only) time I teach myself anything. Sometimes it's the only time I've listened to myself all day, all week. The longer one teaches yoga (teaches anything, really), the better one becomes at channeling--wisdom, knowledge, insight, whatever you want to call it. And maybe this wisdom comes from within us, but it doesn't feel that way. It's more of a gift than that.
Anyway, yesterday I taught myself something--that the exhale is always a relief. It's always a letting go, even at the height of anxiety or dread or exhaustion. This is the cardinal rule of the exhale: it is always a chance to drop something--and, man, what a gift that is. And, yes, I've said that and heard it countless times before yesterday. But for some reason, this time, I actually *heard* it.
I attribute this to whatever cosmic atmospheric forces were at work, sure, but I also attribute it to the incredible, cumulative spirit of the small group of women who gathered for yesterday's class. That relief was so needed, I think, for all of us. And someone, somewhere, knew that.
So here's to my sisters who just needed to put down their burdens. Thank you, not only for teaching me how, but for letting me join you.