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Helm of the Heart

We are the ones we've been waiting for

The light within me bow wows to the light within you.

Hi, guys!  I’m Aimee.  Panda did such a great job of introducing me that I feel like I don’t even need to start writing in this thing.

So… I’m out. Good luck with all that yoga stuff.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just kidding!!!!!!!

 

I’m still here!!!

 

Love me!!

 

Anywhoozle… So yeah, yoga.  Glorious, glorious yoga.  Pretty much my whole life has been transformed since my practice began almost exactly three years ago.  That may seem like no time at all (or a lot of time, especially if you are a three year old person) but to me it feels like an eternity.  I say this because in that time I’ve done a lot of sh*t. Namely, I finished the most circuitous college route evarrr (I FINALLY got my Bachelor’s Degree in Directing for Theatre after seven years of arduous book larnin’) (woohoo!). I moved from one coast to another (NYC—>SF), started one career (bartending) and entertained pursuing others (yoga teacher, therapist, drama teacher). I’ve met hundreds of people and made a handful of new friends (which equates to a few hundred Facebook friends, by the way. NO BIG DEAL).  I’ve cried probably in total a whole day’s worth of tears and laughed a solid year’s worth of laughter… I’ve loved so much, lost a bunch, and learned even more.

Through everything, though, one constant remains: my sweet, sweet yoges.

I came to yoga after an intense break-up.  A break-up so dramatic it forced me to temporarily relocate to the other side of the country during the summer of 2009.  Now, here’s the deal.   I’m usually pretty good at keeping my cool.  I’ve been described as both “unfeeling” and “cold” by a few acquaintances over the years (Shut up, Mom!). Usually not one to want to “bother” others with my “emotional sh*t,” I had actively decided… to be passive… about expressing my feelings regarding my struggling relationship (and, incidentally, my growing depression) to most of my friends. I figured most of them lived across the country (home for me is San Diego and I lived in NYC) so there’s no point in dragging them into my drama… and besides, I thought, they probably have so much going on in their own lives… I can totally get through this alone, I’m strong enough… I’m capable of dealing with this on my own, right? Right…?

Wrongsville, USA.  With no drive to eat healthy/workout/take care of myself and no spiritual practice/avenue to express myself/hobby to share with others, it became increasingly more difficult to feel rooted, grounded, and happy.  And, ultimately, I started to fall out of love with myself.

Guys.  That can’t happen.  Our love for ourselves is what keeps us alive and what paves the way for others to love us.

Real talk. Each and every one of us is, like, a bazillion times more attractive and alluring when we truly love ourselves and are confident in our talents.  Additionally, we are much better at expressing love in this state because we’re well versed in the activity already, having practiced on ourselves for some time.

During a meditation course I took this weekend as part of my yoga teacher training, I was told one translation of the word ‘confidence’ simply means ‘with faith.’  This seems uber appropriate, being that a confident person, to me, is one who has faith in themselves and their abilities.  I also believe that faith is a key component in obtaining existential comfort and mental stability.

So my goal when I went home to San Diego that summer was to fall back in love with myself and regain that Faith I’d lost in all my New York City relationship-school-messy-mess.  I wanted my confidence back for realsies.

On a whim, a mere five days after my plane touched down on Lindbergh Field, I started taking daily yoga classes at various 24-hour fitness clubs around San Diego.  My plan for the summer was to take a Calculus course at San Diego State University that would require a meager 3 1/2 hours of my weekday, which would free up virtually all my mornings and afternoons for me to do anything at my whimsy (rough life, I know).  After two weeks straight of yoga, I was hooked.  Like hooked- hooked.  Like any-cute-and-topical-addict-junky-metaphor-you-can-come-up-with-hooked.  In yoga I’d found my anti-anti-anxiety med.  I’d found my non-church church.  In three short weeks home in San Diego, I’d found Love again.  And this was only the beginning!

I won’t go into too much depth right now as to how this beautiful gift from The Universe completely altered my existence- how I feel, how I think, how I process human experience because- let’s be honest- I’ve talked your face off already… but I’ll also refrain because that’s what I’ll be spending the rest of my life (and this blog) doing. I don’t want to waste it all in one breath. I actually want to work on expanding and extending my breath, my prana, and yours as well. I want to give you all a little glimpse into my scope of experience in hopes to inspire you to better yours. Yoga was an integral step towards positive change for me; I truly hope it can be one for you, too.

“Your hand opens and closes and opens and closes. If it were always a fist or always stretched open, you would be paralyzed. Your deepest presence is in every small contracting and expanding, the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated as bird wings.” -Rumi

Change is both inevitable and beautiful. The challenge for us is to embrace the f*ck out of it.

To our fabulous new union~ Namaste, my lovelies.

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