A life worth living- trusting our Dharmic path..eventually.
I can vividly remember my final professional Orchestral appearance, the summer of 2008. It was full of disappointment, despair, frustration, and confusion. Something which used to come so easy for me, suddenly became an incredible challenge. Notes not coming out the way they used to, self-doubt, empathetic confusion, the tides were turning. Hours in the practice room could not fix it, it seemed as if nothing could. I'm sure it didn't help that the same summer, I suffered from an imaginable heart-break and life change. The more I think about it, this truly was the summer of Kali. She was laughing at me, all my expectations, my dreams, and shedding my ego, one thick layer after another. The life that seemed to be mine, the career I worked my ass through 6 years of College for, was slowly fading away, while simultaneously breaking my heart.
What I cannot remember is my distinct decision that I was no longer a Classical Musician. That this 'label' no longer fit me and what I believed in. All I know, is that in that same summeraQ, I realized I was truly trying to fit a square peg into a round hole, none of this really made sense to me anymore. I felt like a fish out of water. This life of constant criticism, being examined to the "t", the hours of work with no reward, it left me never feeling good enough, never full. Mostly empty. Don't get me wrong, performing has it's greatness. The way the music moved my soul. The way Death and Transfiguration can make me cry and get goose bumps all at the same time. The friends I made along the way. It was a great past, but that's exactly what it was. I needed to leave it behind. Unwilling to spend 20 hours a day of the best years of my life in the practice room, it was time to say 'good-bye'.
It wasn't until I found my Yoga mat just a few months later, that I truly understood what it felt like to feel alive again, to be a part of something bigger than me. When I stepped foot into my first Yoga experience, at the Corepower Yoga Studio on Grant St., I remember being so extremely anxious, feeling like a sore thumb...but the funny thing is, no one else seemed to feel the same about me. Guaranteed, I could never experience Downward Facing dog as a 'resting pose' for the first few months, but that didn't seem to matter. I wasn't quite sure what it was that made me feel so incredibly at ease, regardless of how un-athletic I was in the past; from that moment, I knew I wanted a piece of that. I wanted to know more. I wanted to help people change and transform their lives, physically and mentally, the way it did to mine.
What does this all have to do with anything, Lara, you ask. Well, here's my point...
The word Dharma means 'duty', 'that which holds together'. Some of us spend our entire life searching for our Dharma, our purpose, yet, rarely do we ever stop to realize, or notice, that our purpose shifts so slightly, every few years, and at times, it's right in front of us. To be honest, some of us are too scared of the greatness that could come, and we all know, with greatness, come great responsibility. The more I practice and teach, the more I realize, home is where my mat is, this is where I belong. Yoga is what holds me together. Not because anyone tells me it's what's right, or because I want to fit in, but rather, because it lives at the inner-most center of my heart, it's my new inner symphonic dance. When I am lost, when things start to not make sense, nothing clears and re-sets my mind and body like teaching, or practicing can. It is the magic sauce I've been searching for my entire life. Not only do I feel like I belong, crazy hair, tattoos, nerdiness and all, but I feel at ease, like every day, I truly get to make a difference. Not only in my life, but in the lives of others around me.
Last Wednesday I was blessed with teaching the largest, and quite robably, one of the most impactful classes of my career. With 250 souls, just wanting to connect, to bond, to relate, I was reminded that all my years of 'suffering' where worth it. In my previous life as a Classical Musician, the thought of playing solo to that many people would have led me into a panic attack. Not that I didn't think I was capable, but there was so much pressure to perform, to be perfect. Due to these nerves, I was forced to medicate, this was the ONLY way I could make this career feasible. Yes, the Beta-Blockers took all of the nerves away, yet the side-effects of intense dry mouth, which isn't the most optimal solution for a wood wind instrument and a debilitating 'coming down', took its toll on me. Not to mention, there was a little piece inside me that truly felt like I was cheating. And that I was never enough. But Wednesday night, I was enough, I've always been enough. The jitters where there, but more jitters of excitement, of hope, and gratitude. The debilitating sense of inadequacy never even crossed my mind. I was there to share, to love, and hopefully, help some other people realize how great their lives truly are, just by taking time, to make their way 'home'.
What is it about teaching Yoga that allows me to be at ease? That, I cannot answer for you. It's incredibly hard to explain a feeling. But every-time I step foot to guide a class, a rush of life takes over me. I know exactly what to say, how to say it, and that yes, it may not resonate with everyone, but it will be something that someone needs to hear, and most importantly feel. I am reminded, every single time, that my ability to be just like every single student in our class room, that I am exactly where I was meant to be. All my suffering when I was younger, was to make me smarter, more aware, attentive, full of stories, and experiences to share, and more importantly, an invitation to show up as no one, but myself. And to invite other Yogis to feel the same.
Are you taking the time to truly listen? To truly hear your heart beat and what it's saying to you? The time is now, to honor the law of your nature. No matter how big, how small. We were all put on this earth for a purpose and that purpose is to honor your song, your dance, and not give a shit about who's listening. Because, Yogis, you are bound to help change someone's life, including yours.
Good night.
An average Yogi, with a truly extraordinary life.
What I cannot remember is my distinct decision that I was no longer a Classical Musician. That this 'label' no longer fit me and what I believed in. All I know, is that in that same summeraQ, I realized I was truly trying to fit a square peg into a round hole, none of this really made sense to me anymore. I felt like a fish out of water. This life of constant criticism, being examined to the "t", the hours of work with no reward, it left me never feeling good enough, never full. Mostly empty. Don't get me wrong, performing has it's greatness. The way the music moved my soul. The way Death and Transfiguration can make me cry and get goose bumps all at the same time. The friends I made along the way. It was a great past, but that's exactly what it was. I needed to leave it behind. Unwilling to spend 20 hours a day of the best years of my life in the practice room, it was time to say 'good-bye'.
It wasn't until I found my Yoga mat just a few months later, that I truly understood what it felt like to feel alive again, to be a part of something bigger than me. When I stepped foot into my first Yoga experience, at the Corepower Yoga Studio on Grant St., I remember being so extremely anxious, feeling like a sore thumb...but the funny thing is, no one else seemed to feel the same about me. Guaranteed, I could never experience Downward Facing dog as a 'resting pose' for the first few months, but that didn't seem to matter. I wasn't quite sure what it was that made me feel so incredibly at ease, regardless of how un-athletic I was in the past; from that moment, I knew I wanted a piece of that. I wanted to know more. I wanted to help people change and transform their lives, physically and mentally, the way it did to mine.
What does this all have to do with anything, Lara, you ask. Well, here's my point...
The word Dharma means 'duty', 'that which holds together'. Some of us spend our entire life searching for our Dharma, our purpose, yet, rarely do we ever stop to realize, or notice, that our purpose shifts so slightly, every few years, and at times, it's right in front of us. To be honest, some of us are too scared of the greatness that could come, and we all know, with greatness, come great responsibility. The more I practice and teach, the more I realize, home is where my mat is, this is where I belong. Yoga is what holds me together. Not because anyone tells me it's what's right, or because I want to fit in, but rather, because it lives at the inner-most center of my heart, it's my new inner symphonic dance. When I am lost, when things start to not make sense, nothing clears and re-sets my mind and body like teaching, or practicing can. It is the magic sauce I've been searching for my entire life. Not only do I feel like I belong, crazy hair, tattoos, nerdiness and all, but I feel at ease, like every day, I truly get to make a difference. Not only in my life, but in the lives of others around me.
Last Wednesday I was blessed with teaching the largest, and quite robably, one of the most impactful classes of my career. With 250 souls, just wanting to connect, to bond, to relate, I was reminded that all my years of 'suffering' where worth it. In my previous life as a Classical Musician, the thought of playing solo to that many people would have led me into a panic attack. Not that I didn't think I was capable, but there was so much pressure to perform, to be perfect. Due to these nerves, I was forced to medicate, this was the ONLY way I could make this career feasible. Yes, the Beta-Blockers took all of the nerves away, yet the side-effects of intense dry mouth, which isn't the most optimal solution for a wood wind instrument and a debilitating 'coming down', took its toll on me. Not to mention, there was a little piece inside me that truly felt like I was cheating. And that I was never enough. But Wednesday night, I was enough, I've always been enough. The jitters where there, but more jitters of excitement, of hope, and gratitude. The debilitating sense of inadequacy never even crossed my mind. I was there to share, to love, and hopefully, help some other people realize how great their lives truly are, just by taking time, to make their way 'home'.
What is it about teaching Yoga that allows me to be at ease? That, I cannot answer for you. It's incredibly hard to explain a feeling. But every-time I step foot to guide a class, a rush of life takes over me. I know exactly what to say, how to say it, and that yes, it may not resonate with everyone, but it will be something that someone needs to hear, and most importantly feel. I am reminded, every single time, that my ability to be just like every single student in our class room, that I am exactly where I was meant to be. All my suffering when I was younger, was to make me smarter, more aware, attentive, full of stories, and experiences to share, and more importantly, an invitation to show up as no one, but myself. And to invite other Yogis to feel the same.
Are you taking the time to truly listen? To truly hear your heart beat and what it's saying to you? The time is now, to honor the law of your nature. No matter how big, how small. We were all put on this earth for a purpose and that purpose is to honor your song, your dance, and not give a shit about who's listening. Because, Yogis, you are bound to help change someone's life, including yours.
Good night.
An average Yogi, with a truly extraordinary life.
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