A table with 20 legs
The other day as we entered meditation practice, my teacher Jacoby said that we must become like tables with 20 legs - so when one of our practices inevitably fails us, disappears, or becomes inaccessible, we remain sturdy and standing.
My goodness, does this ever apply to me. If we are anything alike, you rely on practices that yoke your mind body and spirit (btw, the root word of the sanskrit yoga means ‘to yoke’). When I started practicing vinyasa yoga seriously around 2011, it became the main pillar of my holistic well-being. Especially for my mental health.
As I moved through seasons of life, I explored more and more approaches to yoga. Kundalini Yoga was incredibly powerful in guiding me through trauma recovery into increasingly better mental health. And then restorative yoga, and then yin. Meditation moved to center stage over time as well. By 2019, Ayurvedic habits had strengthened and expanded beyond my yoga and meditation practices. I felt amazing. I felt like I had found the Fountain of Youth, and I delighted in sharing what I’d found in my kundalini yoga classes and Being Extraordinary, a year-long collective care & coaching program.
And then…I got pregnant. Around December of 2021, Everything changed. My mental health tanked, regardless of what I tried. I lost access to practicing yin yoga because of the increased relaxin in my connective tissues. Kundalini yoga, my mainstay, was suddenly a turnoff. Meditation stayed, but wasn’t the same. My body, which was changing and daily, didn’t feel like a safe place anymore. I felt the loss of my practices running through my hands like sand.
It was hard. I took refuge in Jacoby’s queer & trans prenatal yoga classes (lol - in spite of constantly being drawn to queer spaces, it took me until after Goldie was born that I’m queer, rather than straight/cis, but that’s a story for another time).
The physical practices in Jacoby’s classes helped. But you want to know what helped even more? the community. the knowledge that other people were going through very hard experiences that, even though they weren't the same as mine, mirrored mine.
“When we allow our bodies to take a certain shape, and our breath to follow certain patterns, we reroute our energy like water along river stones.”
In pregnancy, I learned (and not by choice) to release formal practices. The whole perinatal period was a Hail Mary trust fall (do you also love a mixed metaphor?). Out of desperate need, I came to rely on the most elemental forms of spiritual support: my innate sense of connection with the Divine, and my community. The rest had to be composted, because I have no stomach for forcing myself to do practices that felt wrong in my body. That’s violence disguised as discipline.
And…I made it through. Thanks to so many beings, seen and unseen. And to my own stubborn insistence on self-care, whatever it needed to look like.
Now, to the real point: the practices are coming back. I’ve been revisiting one of my favorite kundalini kriyas for the last few weeks and am finding such solace and enjoyment in it. I am finally connecting back into what was true for so long: when we allow our bodies to take a certain shape, and our breath to follow certain patterns, we reroute our energy like water along river stones. These days, I often have the luxury of being drawn into my practice. Even if I don’t enjoy it the whole time, I know that I will emerge with more clarity. I will be set up to listen more deeply to myself and others, and make aligned choices. It’s not a guarantee of all going smoothly - far from it. Rather, my practice provides a margin of space for when things get rocky.
If I can be of service as you navigate your practice, I welcome you to reach out.
