And it isn’t the first time it’s happened either. In fact, this evening would mark the third time it’s happened to me. But the difference in tonight is, it’s the first time I haven’t grabbed my bag and keys and made an immediate run for it.
What I’m talking about is yoga. In the past six years, each time I have joined in a group yoga class it has brought up such intense, overwhelming emotions that leave me literally sobbing in the back of the studio class room full of other women.
Yoga makes me cry.
Which is super weird, because I do yoga every evening at home in my bedroom and I don’t ever recall ever crying then.
Anyway, this evening I rocked up to a fusion class which I’ve never done before and yep.. it happened again. Only this time I didn’t run away when it happened. No, this time as I lay on my mat in the room which had all of it’s lights turned off during the beginning meditation, I felt the familiar feeling of the tears welling up in my eyes and instead I just let them flow, and I surrendered to it – whole heartedly. This time as the tears came and the emotions too, I let them flow because this time I felt safe. I felt held. I felt like it was time to try and stop attempting to make sense of this physical release and instead I decided I was just gonna let it play out.
And it didn’t just happen once, either. Oh no, this evening after the first time, I went on to cry twice more.
At one point I was literally heaving, sobbing. The tears were coming and so was all the emotion and I was that woman, in the back of the class, crying in yoga.
So I’m sure you’re all wondering why I was crying, exactly. And you know, I don’t really know. But what I do know is that so many times as a parent, as a woman, as a wife – I have to push my emotional needs to the background because there are other things in my life which require prioritisation. So many times throughout the day where shit is hard, and it’s challenging and it’s pushing me and forcing me to use all my reserves as a woman and mother just to get through.
Except… when I’m laying on a yoga mat, in a dark room, with other women – I can’t escape my emotions, I can’t run from them and it’s here, funnily enough, where they decide to come out. So they come out in the form of wet, sticky tears which trickle down my face and into my hair. My breathing increases, my heart rate climbs and I sob and cry and let it all out. They aren’t tears of sadness though, they’re tears of relief. Tears of release. Tears of healing.
Instead of shelving my emotions, numbing them or running from them – I’m able to feel them fully, in all that they are – and its okay. It’s totally okay. In fact, it’s fucking lovely.
I left the yoga class tonight when it was over, and having felt my feelings in their entirety – I felt like a weight had been lifted. I feel emotionally cleansed and I feel like a better version of myself. All raw, sweary, sticky salty tears – me.
And yes, I will be going back.