I’m honored and happy to welcome guest blogger and Kula member whom I had the privilege of meeting in person on our first Find What Feels Good retreat in June. Here she shares words about her experience and the journey. I am grateful for her contribution. Enjoy! -Adriene
Peeling the Onion: My Journey With YWA
By Woodsy Woods
Three years ago I was 37 and, despite everything falling into place on paper, my life was miserable. My husband and I were living in a city that, no matter what we tried, did not feel like home. My dream of being a successful editor/publisher was coming true at a time when the industry that was in major flux. But the truth behind the curtains was this “success” was creating a tidal wave of problems I felt unable to solve. My health had never been so poor; skinny with thinning hair, stress was written all over my body. I did not recognize the agonized face I saw in the mirror each morning and I had no clue what to do to change my situation. In short, I felt trapped, frozen in the moment.
My entire life I’ve viewed myself as a risk-taker, brave of heart and determined. A mentor once told me over dinner as I described my woes: “Ain’t no hill for a climber.” She meant it as a compliment, and somewhere deep down I felt she was right. But for the first time I could not access that part of my spirit. Or so I thought.
Out of the blue, my husband earned a promotion at work that would enable us to live anywhere we wanted. When we met as young adults, we were living in the Appalachian Mountains of western North Carolina. He was a student and professional whitewater kayaker, I was a raft guide. Our lifestyle was hardscrabble by modern standards, but we were living the dream of so many like us: plenty of time for sport and adventure, not much care for material things, water and sun and wildlife filling our days and nights. We desperately wanted to return to this happier time. Without too much discussion we agreed to take a leap and go home again.
We traded my publishing company in for a small farm in Asheville, NC. I would run the farm while he kept his corporate job working from a home office we created in a spare bedroom. I laugh to think of it now, but I thought for sure once our boxes were unpacked life would fall right into place again. I knew from past experience a life of agriculture would be tough, but there were so many other things that went wrong we hadn’t planned on. My family thought we’d lost our minds and offered no support. Unexpected repairs to the small house on the farm were needed as soon as the dotted line was signed. Despite returning home to build our dream, I felt more lost than ever. The first two years I made my world as tiny as I possibly could. I turned off my computer and my cell phone. I shrunk my circle of relationships to a very small, quiet few. Our motto became: Do no harm and get our sea legs.
The spring of 2016, things began to lift. I felt lighter, and yet more full. I put on weight and my hair started growing back. My body felt strong, my heart felt ready to blossom again. When a friend suggested I try yoga on a YouTube channel, I listened. My first session of Yoga with Adriene was humbling. Strong as I felt, the movements forced me to recognize that years of stress had left a mark. Tight shoulders and creaky hips, uneven breathing, oh lordy I was so awkward. But something else happened during that session. I finished feeling BETTER. Really, really better. Not just in my body, but in my mind, in my heart. I decided to try the 30-day Yoga Camp and a revolution within was born.
My last week of Yoga Camp in March of this year that same friend texted to say YWA was having a retreat in Nicaragua in June and would I be interested in going? June was a terrible time for me; the farm would be in full swing. The same self doubts of my recent past crept up in my head. Did I deserve such a treat? Could I handle an adventure? Was it completely selfish and irresponsible? The difference this time was I knew this was the voice of my thinking mind and not my inner spirit. This was the voice of fear and uncertainty. In that moment of recognition, I knew what I had to do: I said yes.
Our first yoga session in Nicaragua, I felt the truth wash over me: I was exactly where I needed to be. All those tough days of labor on the farm allowed the heat of yoga in the jungle to feel completely natural. My body shouted with joy from inside as my biggest sources of pain and tightness let go, unfolding in ways they hadn’t since childhood. The ocean met me with every breath. Every wave that crashed into the shore below was a beautiful message just for me. We would breathe together. “I go, now you go. I go, now you go,” it called to me with each inhale and exhale. Within minutes I was connected to, a part of the amazing jungle around me.
From this place of connection something else magical happened. The hard shell I built up around me, the one I thought I needed to get through several bumpy years, started peeling away as I related to the other travelers on my trip. We told our stories, shared cold beers and candid tales of the day’s awkward body functions as we acclimated to our surroundings. I couldn’t stop laughing. I couldn’t stop crying (but happy tears, not sad ones). I couldn’t stop letting go of all those things that did not serve me. I felt amazing. I felt like myself again.
When I returned home from Nicaragua, during our first moment of quiet together, I looked at my husband and said, “I’m different. Can you feel it?” He shook his head yes and we cried tears of joy together. We were those young adults in love again, full of spark and bravery. The gratitude I feel for the YWA retreat still powerfully reverberates through my heart as I type. I know I will carry that place, those people, that awakening in my heart throughout all the rest of my days. Namaste, indeed.
