Away Game.

One of the crumby things about traveling is being away from my routine. Specifically, my yoga routine and home studio. A few times on previous visits to Miami, I had considered bringing my mat with me and taking some classes but usually things were too busy or I just wasn't motivated enough to get my ass on my mat to practice.

This trip, more for family crisis than for fun, has been extremely stressful and at some point I mentioned to my cousin that I wanted to practice but did not have a mat. She generously offered me use of hers and then actually brought it to me. Oh shit. Now, I had to actually use it.

This meant that I had to buck up and go to a new and different studio, with people and teachers I did not know and sweat like an animal in front of them. It is intimidating. Plus, even though I have been practicing for almost 6 years, most of those classes have been with teachers at my home studio or associated with my home studio, so I generally know what I am in for. I had no idea what to expect at this studio!

My mom asked me what it was like to practice in a studio different than my own. I told her it was like playing an away game. The conditions are slightly different, but you are all playing by the same rules and using the same equipment and verbage to describe the process. I also said it was like attending a Catholic Mass in a different part of the country. Same structure with contextual differences.

Thankfully, the experience has been lovely. 305 Yoga in Miami Shores has been a saving grace during my time here in Miami. It is a clean and beautiful space with lovely and sweet teachers. I mentioned to Shante, my teacher last night at Soulful Sunday, that even though I am not in my usual studio or using my own mat, I find that the practice, my practice, roots me down. And it is so true. There is a reason that yogic practice has perpetuated for years upon years. 

I have found to my surprise that after almost 6 years, my practice is truly my own. It does not belong to my teachers or my studio or my mat, it lives inside me. That is straight up revelatory. It is mine. No one can take it from me and I have it at my disposal no matter where I go.

That is, of course, not to say that I do not miss my family at Human Breathing in Morgantown, PA. Practicing at a studio in a big city has made me appreciate so much more how special our small tight-knit studio truly is. I miss seeing all your gorgeous faces and hearing about your lives. I miss how deeply we all love each other and lift each other up and cannot wait to be back on my mat in our studio again on Friday morning with Daniel!

So, wherever you are, Namaste. 

And a major thank you to my cousin for the push to get my ass on my mat and do the damn thing.