A few days after I returned to the mat, I found myself returning again - this time, not just to movement, but to something deeper I’ve been circling for years.

The teacher who held space for the discussion in that last class - though truly, we all contributed equally - is someone I deeply revere. And if I’m honest, she’s someone who has intimidated me in the past. Not because she has ever done anything to create that feeling, but because there is something about her energy: powerful, grounded, soft, fully herself. I think my own insecurities simply had nowhere to hide around her.

Over the last couple of years, that intimidation has softened into something else entirely. Curiosity. Trust. Maybe even longing to embody more of what she embodies seemingly so naturally. I now find myself craving being in her space, because something in me recognizes that there is more of me waiting to emerge. So I signed up for more classes. For now, specifically with her. Because I know there are parts of myself I’ve kept tucked away, and I sense they may finally be ready to come to the surface.

The Work-In

Which leads me to last Friday’s Kundalini class.

Kundalini yoga is not a practice I’ve explored much in my 25 years of practice. That alone probably says something. I have had periods of time in which I had a very deep and transformative yoga practice. Sometimes it was too much to handle along with things happening in life or with me, and I had to back off.

Perhaps I have stayed clear of Kundalini simply because I wasn’t ready to stir more what lived underneath everything else. Kundalini is known to do just that. It is powerful, uncomfortable, revealing. While the physical practice itself can feel like an intense workout — vigorous movement held longer than you’d like, deep breathwork, chanting that vibrates through your cells — the real impact is something else entirely. A true “work-in”.

And not everyone is ready for that.

Honestly, I’m a little surprised that I sought it out right now. But maybe that’s the point. Maybe I am letting go, little by little.

Toward the end of class, the gong began to sound as we were invited to bring to the surface whatever fears, grief, or baggage we were ready to release. Hands resting over my heart center, tears streamed down my face. The crescendo of sound felt almost surgical, peeling away layers I didn’t even realize I was still protecting. Fear. Holding on. Old identities. The more the vibrations built, the more clearly I could feel what no longer fit.

And when it ended - the gong, the chanting, the noise of it all - there was clarity.

The Cost of Staying Small

I realized how much energy I have spent holding back my full Self. Keeping parts of myself smaller, quieter, more digestible. Because fully stepping into who I am could disrupt things. Expectations. Relationships. Roles people have unconsciously assigned to me, and perhaps roles I’ve assigned to myself. There is safety in staying partially hidden. Safety in maintaining the status quo.

But there is also a cost.

Holding back chips away at my confidence. It dulls possibility. It creates a quiet sadness in my soul - the kind that comes from knowing I am not fully inhabiting my own life.

The stakes can feel high when you allow your full Self to be seen. First by yourself, and then by others. But maybe the stakes are just as high - if not higher - when you don’t.

None of us can control the outcome of our lives anyway. There are simply too many variables, too many unseen forces, too much mystery. So who are we to deny ourselves the experience of becoming fully who we are, simply to keep others comfortable? Who’s saying they are comfortable with us as we keep ourselves small, or that they’re even thinking of us at all?

The stories we tell ourselves to help us hide in our fears do not serve us well at all.

What Hasn’t Been Measured Yet

One of these stories I have been telling myself - and I just told you in part one (“Return of the Mat”) - is that I didn’t accomplish anything in the year since leaving my Executive Director role. But the clarity that has come through the return to my practice - there has been more since the discussion and Kundalini class - shows me that what I did during that time just hasn’t been measured yet.

During the past year, I took a step back. I spent time with the kids, I traveled, I faced and seem to have conquered some health issues, I rested. I also stressed, felt inadequate, wondered where I went wrong, and lost sleep. But in the end, I seem to have come through stronger. With an unprecedented calm determination, and a desire to gain greater clarity. If I had not taken that time - as unproductive as it may have seemed until very recently - I don’t think I would be where I am right now: focused, growing, and building something intentionally at a pace that allows for introspection and integration throughout the process.

What the Nervous System Already Knows

If you have ever been in one of my classes, you may recall that I tend to focus a lot on balance. Not only in postures, but also in energy and engagement. Sometimes we hold postures for a long time, almost seems like too long, but then I have you let it all go and rest. We gradually build up again from that rested state. This is how our nervous system is engineered to work: it can give us a lot of strength, endurance and will power for a short amount of time and then needs to recover. I will get into that more in another post coming soon.

Or, I may cue you to engage what needs to be working for the posture and soften other areas that tend to engage even though they aren’t recruited in the action at all - over-engagement where not needed is an exhausting waste of energy and does not allow the parts that need to engage to fully develop and work. In life, over-engagement (also known as mindless busyness) in areas that don’t need our attention leads to total burnout.

Returning Differently

So now that I look at this flow - what I teach in my classes, what I know of the nervous system, what was going on with me at the time I had to leave my position - I can see that I allowed myself to back off and recover so that I could come back stronger, clearer, and better. Expecting myself to leap from a crisis to a massive endeavor is unrealistic. I thought I’d be ready for that endeavor sooner but apparently I needed more time.

The important part was knowing how to listen to myself - “take the birthday trip to Nice, where I feel more like myself” - and realize that the moment to get back to work is here. But I am very different now too, than I was a year ago. I have a quiet determination, clear goals, building programs and classes brings me joy again, and I feel confident that things are working out the way they should.

This feels like a first step toward the next phase of my life.

Continue the Work-In

These reflections are also shaping a live online experience I’ll be offering - The Work-In Collective - for anyone craving nervous system recovery, movement, reflection, and space to reconnect with themselves. First session is June 7.

You can learn more here: https://lifebeyondbusy.com/work-in-collective

Break on Through

Return of the Mat