the unexpected: homesick.

i was led through a practice by these people tonight. and i got just what i needed. a much-needed reminder.

their energy, their love, their passion and dedication to sharing what they do with the world is contagious. and maybe there was something to that, but my expectation for this class was high. i needed a sweaty, juicy practice and this was going to be it. my practice tonight with ben and tori was everything unexpected.

ben's acoustic guitar and beat-boxing supporting our breath. standing nearly nose-to-nose with the teacher, tori, as we stood in tree pose, supporting each other and hugging it out. a surprise practice next to my new friend lauren, a new teacher-training friend with whom i found immediate connection. stepping outside of the journey into power sequencing and, by tori's own definition, leading students through what's needed in the present moment. a light shone onto approaching my training in a totally different way.

and, strangely, a homesickness i haven't felt in a very long time. it's been two full years since i've been back to the place i'll forever call home. two years too long since i've walked the streets of my beloved hometown; spent sunday dinner in my parents' house full of siblings, cousins, nieces, nephews, really anyone who would join us; opened the coat closet full of my mom's things and breathed in her distinct smell; walked in to see my dad reading at the kitchen counter with his store-bought reading glasses.

two years ago yesterday. and for whatever reason, tonight while i stood on my mat, moving to the beats ben created and the sound of tori's voice, i felt a little piece of my heart was missing. a little piece of my world that i haven't really shared with my mister or our little one. a pretty big piece, actually, that's so important, so crucial to my vitality.

as i left the studio tonight, i told ben about the unexpected thing that showed up on my mat. his words really hit home:

'it was so nice to meet you...and...

GO HOME!' he said.

yes.

six years ago, in a different life in d.c., i bought an e.e. cummings book at a book store on capitol hill, near eastern market. whenever i opened the book, i somehow always ended up re-reading my favorite poem of his.

i wanted it tattooed, in my favorite font, courier new, of course. the words, the spacing, the image of this poem pulled me in every time.

i'm starting a new chapter this weekend and as i started preparing for my first weekend of yoga teacher training, i opened the required reading. on the first page of chapter one, i read these words:

"yes is a world

& in this world of 

yes live

(skillfully curled)

all worlds"

- e.e. cummings

the timing (and words) couldn't be more perfect.

yes.

be ready now.

when i show up on my yoga mat, fully and wholeheartedly, magic happens.

not the kind of magic that makes people say ‘how do i get into that pose,’ but the kind of magic that carries far beyond the arm balances and the puddles of sweat.

you know, the whole ‘off the mat’ practice.

the things i learn with every breath, the power i uncover with every opening.

don’t get me wrong, i love the sweat and the arm balances and that’s just when my practice begins.

it begins only when i choose to push myself, when i choose to potentially mess up, fall out of a pose; when i just say ‘yes’ and then open myself up to the possibility.

when i choose to be ready now (instead of giving the too tired-don’t-want-to-fail-am-comfortable-where-i-am excuse,) when i say yes to what’s right in front of me, i start to discover the magic; discover what’s possible through my physical practice and what i take off of my mat.

i am ready now. i am a yes and choose all that comes along with it.