Editor’s Note: As noted in my last blog post, I just completed my 200 hour Yoga Teacher Training course. I had two posts, the first was about gratitude, this is a tribute to a beautiful group of people, who gave me the gift of belonging. I will be forever grateful to them. I just hope my words do them justice.
It was inevitable, it’s really surprising it took as long as
it did. We had a three-story house in
the woods in the north Georgia mountains, and due to the fact I was the only
male, I had a private room with a private bath.
I think about the second day, a few of my fellow classmates wanted to
see what my room looked like. They came
crashing in, marveling at the room, and of course, eyeing up the beautiful
bathroom with the freestanding bathtub.
And then Staci noticed that I had my shades pulled down on the one set
of windows in the bedroom, and she shrieked, “Why do you have these shades
down! You’re missing a beautiful view!” And she proceeded to raise the shades and
expose me to the outside world.
Way back in the fall, when Laurel and I took a trip to
France with Sheila Ewers on a Yoga Retreat, I mentioned to Sheila that I wanted
to take the 200 hour Yoga Teacher Training course. She was thrilled, and much to my dismay, in January
or so of this year, she reached out to me to take me up on it. Oh my God, what have I gotten myself
into? As is very typical for me, I
immediately went into flight mode, my standard answer to any challenge, the
unicorn in me came out. I started
thinking of the many reasons why I couldn’t, or shouldn’t, do this.
The requirements were intense. Over roughly two months, I would have to
travel to Georgia four times for weekend training events, and one time for a
nine-day event at a house in the north Georgia mountains, along with nine
Wednesday night virtual calls for two hours at a time. If I were any good at math, I’d realize, 200
hours is a lot of time.
The first weekend together, we gathered, eight students, and
two teachers, and as noted, I was the only male. Over the course of the weekend, there were
times when some of my classmates would talk about various women-related issues,
and then they would turn to me and say, “sorry Steve”. At the end of the weekend, I said to Sheila, “I
don’t want them to hold anything back, they can say anything they want in front
of me, I need to feel like I belong.”
And Sheila responded, “I really don’t think that will be a problem with
this group.” And she was right.
The next weekend was incredible. I was struggling mightily with the Sanskrit
and eventually the anatomy, but I kept feeling so comfortable with my
group. They were such a menagerie of
personalities, and I just loved something about each of them. Truth be known, I couldn’t wait for that
third weekend, I just loved being around them.
They were so open and honest, and so willing to let me in.
As the time came for the nine days together, I started
getting apprehensive yet again. The feeling
that I just don’t belong, that I wasn’t worthy to do this, that I’m just not
good enough kept coming up, and I was trying to figure out why or how I could
back out. And then a funny thing
happened….
The one night a few days before I was to leave, I woke up in
the middle of the night, and I had a sharp pain in my right calf, probably a
cramp, but it didn’t feel like a cramp.
I had an instant where I thought it was a blood clot again, I had one a
few years ago in that same calf. I
panicked, and thought, no! I won’t be
able to finish the training if I have a blood clot. And I knew then how badly I wanted this.
When I arrived at the house, I had my usual apprehension. I don’t belong, I shouldn’t be here, I’m not
worthy… But, I have grown in my abilities to know when to use the tools in my
toolbox. I phoned a friend. Actually two.
I sent an e-mail to Hailey, and I told her I don’t feel like I belong, I
want to leave, and I just wanted to cry.
She said, that’s OK, if you want to cry, then you should cry. I talked to Laurel, and of course, she knows
me better than anyone, and she reassured me, these are just normal
feelings.
As the days wore on, I became more comfortable I have become so much better at knowing
myself, knowing what I need and who I am.
But it was so much more than that.
Everyone gave me my space and allowed me to be me. There was a day when I was really down, and
instead of living one of Laurel’s yoga cards that says “Perfectly Imperfect”, I
was telling myself that I’m “Perfectly Incompetent”. The good news is that I know that this can be
me sometimes, and I will get past it, but
also, everyone let me have my space
and didn’t try to fix me, they were just there for me.
I still find it hard to believe that we spent so much time
together, living with each other for nine days, starting at 7 in the morning
until 9 or 10 at night, and we got along so well. It was one of the most magical experiences I’ve
ever had in my life, I missed Laurel deeply, but I was so sad to have to say
goodbye and leave when our time was done.
It sounds so trite to say, we laughed, we cried, we shared our emotions,
but we did, and there were so many moments that were so meaningful and
touching, I won’t ever be able to forget them.
There are so many moments I could share, but of course,
those are our private moments, but I’ll share just one, because I don’t think
it would violate anyone’s trust, and frankly, I thought it was incredibly
funny. It was the one breakfast, toward
the end of our stay. We had a
requirement to remain silent each morning until after breakfast. As we were having breakfast in silence, I
took a bite of food, and immediately shuddered at the taste. Something wasn’t right. Staci and Carley immediately started laughing
at the face I made. Not deterred, I
thought, maybe it was one bad spot. So I
took another bite. Another shudder. Staci burst out laughing, and said, “Why did
you take another bite!” She and Carley
were laughing and crying, and then I looked up, and Phyllis had tears rolling
down her face. When I finally got myself
under control, and had stopped laughing, I looked at the end of the table, and
Meenu had tears rolling down her face too.
Yes, we laughed, and we laughed so hard, we cried. And I had to fall on my sword and confess to
Sheila that the silence had been broken, and it was all because of me.
Going back to the beginning, after Staci unceremoniously raised my shades, I gradually opened my
We still had one weekend left, we had our final test, which I
was scared shitless for, I still couldn’t seem to grasp the Sanskrit or the
anatomy. Thankfully, Staci and Jacey put
together flash cards online, which I studied probably at least 50 times. If it weren’t for those, I wouldn’t have passed the test. More importantly, we had our final time
together, and the tears flowed. And
flowed. And flowed some more. We also had a great deal of laughter and fun,
but it was a difficult moment to have to say goodbye.
At our last group setting, we each had to say what we planned to do, to live by going forward. Back at our mountain house, we had a ceremony where we said goodbye to our “Loyal Soldier”. That is who we use to protect us from the outside world. In my case, I said goodbye to “Stone Cold Steve McCullough”. Throughout my life, I withdraw my emotions, so that no one can see what I’m feeling, what hurts. I don’t want anyone to see inside, to see the real me. The funny thing was when I called Laurel to ask her what she thought my Loyal Soldier was, she said it immediately, so I guess I’m more transparent than I thought I was. At least to her. I told the group, I’m going to start following what Mother Teresa said, I’m going to be honest and transparent, even if it does make me vulnerable.
“I am searching for something I
have not lost” from “Einstein and
the Rabbi”
So, why did I want to do this training so badly? Truth be known, I desperately wanted to do
this to find forgiveness. I’ve been
searching for 30 years for forgiveness, and I thought I could find it
here. I had looked everywhere else,
maybe this was where I would find it. On
our last Sunday together, the day of our graduation, I read the line above. I also got horribly lost on my morning run, which seems so poetic for this journey.
If you read my last blog, I said that I started yoga to find
my breath, but I found so much more.
Similarly, I set out on this journey to find forgiveness, but I received
so many wonderful gifts, and I realized, I never lost forgiveness, it’s been
there all this time, I just need to figure out how to embrace it.
There were so many other gifts that I received throughout this
experience. The greatest gift? Belonging.
It’s been years since I’ve felt that I belong anywhere. This wonderful group of people gave me the
gift of belonging. After some initial
trepidation, I felt so comfortable anytime we were together, it meant so much
to me. I can’t thank them enough.
Last comment and I’m done, and again, from “Einstein and the
Rabbi”. A few days after the reading
above, I read this, which seemed like a special message jut for me, based on
the age cited. It said:
“Rabbi, I realize I have a gift,
and all I need to do is just be me. God
gives you gifts. Use them. Don’t be ashamed. I’m 61 years old. It’s OK if others don’t like my work. My work’s OK.
I’m OK.”
Belonging. And
allowing me to just be me.
Many thanks to The Chocolate Poet Society.
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