The term “feels like coming home” must be very familiar to many people. How it feels like to come home could be similar across different individuals, but the trigger to that emotion is deeply personal and unique. Coming home to some means finally meeting a person whom they connect with on a higher level, like lovers meeting, or a person picking up a paint brush and realising that his life’s calling is to paint.
I am fortunate to know what this feels like, and if it weren’t for yoga or the want to share it with others, I am pretty sure I would never know the pure joy of coming home at least up until now. Coming home to me means that joy i feel immediately at the end of a class. It could be a basic yoga class, or a prenatal class. Before each class gets into full swing, I love to just begin with everyone sitting down with their eyes closed. They are told to return to their breath so that it is deep, even and steady, and in the same moment, I get to return to my home, the space where ideas, sequences, knowledge and passion flows seamlessly and merges into a fluid yoga session.
Although some sequences (opening, salutations, closing) can be repetitive in a number of classes, it is the middle section of the class, like the fillings of a sandwich, that is open to experimentation; to the different needs of the students who are in the class at that time, different injuries and different stories needing modifications and variations.
Sometimes the response doesn’t seem to come from me, but rather ‘through’ me. I believe this is something that I must have read before and it is just sitting in my memory waiting for the right moment to come up. Mostly, I believe it is the universe working its way through me 🙂
What is your definition of coming home?