The Divine in me. How I found my spirit name. (Spoiler Alert.. it's Sara)

This story is not for everyone... but it's the truth of what yoga culture and asana mean to me. <3
Namaste!

Yoga Teacher Training


To set the scene... Cold yoga studio which has been shut down for the weekend to accommodate our group. This means the heat has been shut off.
It's December in Nebraska.
After 3 days, each of which contained about 10 hours of solid asana in a building without a water fountain, my body barely worked.
The Caveman Roomie welcomed me home each of those nights with a recovery drink and dinner. One night (as the story goes.. I have to take his word for it) I passed out on the living room floor while he was in the bathroom running me a very hot bath in our whirlpool.
This weekend left me sore, exhausted, and with a good pocketful of new friends who were all on a similar path. We wanted to bring this beautiful practice to as many people as possible. We wanted to know EVERYTHING about it so we could be as effective as we are caring.
I met Gary*. He was a middle school social studies teacher and wanted to open a studio in the next couple of years. We shared a pepperoni pizza after class one night to talk about what yoga means to us. He was trying to stave off the effects of arthritis. The low impact was so easy on his joints and made him feel strong enough to fight off the symptoms.
I met Julie*. She worked in the floral department of a local grocery store.
Single Mom with 3 kids.. we chatted over a glass of wine about the autism spectrum and how over medicated kids are these days. She ordered a giant brownie with whipped cream and licked her fingers of the chocolate syrup explaining how it was the first time since her oldest son was born that she had been granted more than just a bite of anything so sweet without little fingers snatching it away.

I liked Gary and Julie.. They were so down to earth in this strangely competitive, often judgemental field.
Probably just because like me, they were newbies.
We hadn't been entrenched in the local culture or subjected to the glares of the hard core yogi yet. YET.

Fast forward one year.
I'm practically dancing into another yoga teacher weekend which I had saved for 4 months to afford.
My belly fills with butterflies as I spot Julie and Gary in a crowd of people I don't yet know.
I skip (sorry.. I do that sometimes) over to their group and greet them.
They turn slowly and with a tilt of her head Julie holds her hands in Namaste.
"Hello! As we meet again, let me introduce myself! My name is Jagat Priya... it means Justifier."
Gary bows deeply at me and speaks so slowly I wonder if he's been told that this is in fact a weekend for recent psych ward patients...
"I am Tree. My heart is glad to see you old friend! What is your name?"

......
...........
Uhm.
My name is... Sara... still.

"No no no, my sweet friend... what is your Spirit name?"

I look around to see if my spirit is standing nearby and hopefully wearing a name tag.
Foiled, I respond... Did I forget to grab the packet assigning.. uhm. Spirit names?

They look at me like I'm the most adorable child of all time.

Later, I ask them to grab a coffee with me on our break.
They both opt for herbal tea and stare a me in horror as I add dairy creamer to my fully caffeinated steaming cup of consumerism.
A 45 minute lecture ensues during which I'm told in graphic detail what I'm doing to my body and the environment. I walked in proud of myself for remembering to pack my own bph free coffee thermos, but I guess I just spat in the rainforest's face.. as well as a dozen or so migrant workers. Sorry guys! =(

The two took regular sidebars to congratulate one another on their strict veganism and use of Sanskrit.

As we walked back to the studio to continue day one of what looked to be 3 very trying days, the two agreed they would dedicate today's practice to me in hopes that my spirit would reveal and name itself.
Sigh.
I was hoping to deepen my practice.. but this was.. well. Douchey. (sorry Schmom)

As we exhaled deeper into this posture, extended into that posture, and floooaaated into yet another arm balance, I was flooded with a strong, undefined emotion.
Was I embarrassed that my spiritual practice didn't include changing my name and voice? Did this mean it wasn't legit? Was I indignant that they disagreed with my belief that ahimsa's true meaning wasn't 'don't eat meat'? Did I feel like I was failing yoga?
As I lay in Savasana (Which is Sanskrit for 'try not to fall asleep' pose) I let my mind really chew on those thoughts.
We sat and breathed again in unison... clarity rose up from somewhere deep in my belly.
 

We all bowed in Namaste and rolled our mats.
Jagat Priya and Tree made their way to me.. glowing.
'Did you find your truth, Sister Sara?'
I bowed deeply, grateful for them and the truth their energy helped me locate within my own spirit.
"Namaste!" came a softened voice from my lips. "I am Yoni"
They praised the divine within me and asked me to join them for dinner.

The next 2 days passed, filling my heart with absolute beauty. I learned so much and grew more and more excited to bring these lessons to my students..
On our last day, Tree approached and told me how inspired he was by the truths I spoke during our Bahkti discussion. He praised my insight into the changes breath can cause in a relationship.
"Yoni, I was hoping we could talk about opening a studio together when we get back from the retreat? I feel like I've found a real friend in you. A soul mate.."
I smiled.
Sure, Gary.. but you're gonna have to stop calling me vagina.
He sputtered.
It's only the most well known word in the Sanskrit language.. on every page of the Kama Sutra... Vulva.
You've been calling me Vulva.
After a few moments, he finally laughed.
It was like watching someone wake up from a daydream.
Gary and I left. We got a pepperoni pizza and laughed.. realizing that the real path is happiness.
Teaching those who NEED asana is my happiness.
*shrug*
I'm not going to be everyone's favorite yogi. I'm not a razor-thin vegan with a voice like velvet. I won't always use the Sanskrit terms for each posture.
But I teach the yoga of joy. Health. Truth, I suppose....

Don't get me wrong.. I have deep respect for yoga. For all 7 limbs and anyone who wants to call themselves The Justifier (How could you NOT respect that???) There is so much to be gained by learning the root of Asana and LIVING yoga.
But you can enjoy a deep, fulfilling practice without being a judgemental jerk.
And with that, The Divine in me bows to the Divine in you. Love you guys!

Top 10 things I learned about pregnancy.. from an ametuer incubator

The moment you see that second line appear on your EPT, you want to call everyone you know and share the news... but you probably won't. You'll wait until you've seen the doctor.. heard the heartbeat... you may even wait until you can no longer play off your bulging belly as one too many slices of pizza.
We all share the news in our own time and in our own way... but the MINUTE you do, some alarm goes off throughout your social circle telling everyone you encounter that you are in dire need of advice and horror stories. The moment you absentmindedly place a protective hand on your protruding pooch every parent in the building will be instinctively drawn to the Mama-to-be to tell her 'the thing they don't warn you about'
Here are the top 10 things I've taken away from my pregnancy.. before the amazing amnesia hormone kicks in and makes me forget!


10: You are now public property.

Your belly is about to be rubbed, touched, and fondled by every person you know and every old lady in every grocery store you dare enter. Carry a big purse to protect your itchy, aching midsection from probing hands! When we hit 41 weeks gestation, one "helpful" woman actually dared shove down from the top of my stomach while shouting "Get out of there, Baby! We want to meet you!"
I had just met this woman.
It's likely I'll never encounter her again...
Thank. Frank.


9. You're doing it wrong. All of it...

Avoiding gluten, I was told dozzzzens of times how I was depriving my son of 'VITAL' nutrients. Such as??
Reaching for my chocolate milk I'm told I'm setting him up for a lifetime of sugar dependency.
When I stand at a party talking with friends I need to be sitting and resting.. but when I stopped teaching class because of our very early contractions I was setting myself up for a difficult labor. How much weight have you gained so far??? All told, I gained 26 pounds. This was both FAR too much and not nearly enough.. And I was constantly reminded both that I needed to put my own feelings about my body aside and gain weight for the baby's sake and that I would NEVER get the weight off.
People want to know everything.. Are you going to find out the sex? Getting an epidural? Circumsising? Breastfeeding? Such personal questions... with NO right answer. People are PASSIONATE about these topics and you are now in the hotseat. Good luck, there!

8. Maternity Clothes???

I remember buying my sister Maternity clothes when she was about 5 months along. They were beautiful and she was beautiful in them! And while I started showing very early (11 weeks!) I never actually needed them. Well. Maybe I did.. but I refused to wear them ;) I wore my regular jeans to the birthing center the day our angel was born...However I did purchase one item.
It was a talisman, really. When we encountered our first complication I marched into Gordman's and bought a maternity shirt.. just to remind myself that one day I WOULD need this shirt. We WOULD get there and this baby was going to make it <3

My one and only maternity shirt
(around 8 1/2 months along)

But when you switch from regular clothes to maternity is all on you. Any bit of comfort you can squeeze out of these 9 months is crucial, so don't let anyone make this call for you!

7. It goes by in a FLASH.... a really, really, really, long sleepless flash...


I imagine I could have stayed pregnant for a year if Bam wanted to hang out that long... but from the minute the second line appeared on my.. *ahem*.. 4th pregnancy test...
All I could think was 'Can't I meet you yet??'
I never wanted to rush my pregnancy. I loved having him safe and sound in my belly where I could force feed him all the brussel sprouts and cauliflower a pregnant lady can stomach.
I enjoyed feeling him move.. even when he found a separated rib to play with the last 2 months. I can't believe how fast 9 months was upon us and I'd have to share him with the world... but when someone says you're going to meet the love of your life in 40 weeks (42 for us, thanks!) you are on the edge of your seat the whole time!
Enjoy your pregnancy... you'll hear 'wait til' so many times!
Every time you mention your pregnancy you'll hear 'Wait til he's keeping you up all night, then tell me how perfect he is.' 'Wait til he's in middle school and starts mouthing off, then tell me how wonderful he is' 'Wait til he doesn't NEED your advice, then tell me how much you love being a mom'
How bout no? How about I don't need to wait because I'm so happy to be his mom even if he DOES act like humans are known to? How about never ever wait... enjoy every second, because it IS only a second.

 

6. You. Will. Cry.
I felt ok about the handle I had on my emotions... I never hated Abrabacon for no reason. I didn't wake him at 3am because if I don't have a pint of Ben and Jerry's pizza flavored ice cream with marshmallow drizzle RIGHT NOW I'M GOING TO DIEEE!
Honestly.. I didn't even gain a ridiculous amount of weight..
But about once a week I would calmly mention to Abe.. I'm going to go cry. I'm going to sit in the bathtub and read Clive Barker books and sob... I'm not sad. I'm not angry... I'm just full of tears and I have to go get them out of my face. See you in an hour.

Then around month 7, this pristine control became a bit shaky as things crept up on me.
For instance, while I had only one maternity shirt, my cup size upgraded once. Twice. 5 times.
Squeezing into a bra and putting on my shirt only to find that you could very clearly see breasticular muffin top quite frequently reduced me to not only tears, but full on Rom-com worthy closet destroying montages wherein I repeated a dozen or so times "I'm SO fat!"
Pan to Abe snickering at me until things started flying from the closet straight at his head.

5. Enemies no more


This was very strange to me, but stick with me.
I'm not for everyone. I'm loving, sure.. but also a bit loud and occasionally crass. I don't mind getting into the dirty details and I don't mind being in a pink apron putting dinner on the table when Abe gets home... thus putting off both the feminine AND the feminist set. What's more is that I find it easier to be friends with men than women. This isn't all women, of course.. I have an amazing core set of ladies I wouldn't trade for TWO worlds.. but I generally find myself more comfortable joking with men than the more competitive, fairer sex.
More specifically, the girlfriends of my guy friends.
Somehow, I always find myself losing a game I didn't know I was playing.
This unflattering feature of the female brain fades fast when the object of their ire is with child. *shrug* Good thing, too. I've enjoyed the company of females so much better since May and you REALLY need the love and support of women during this time. Trust me. I cannot underscore this enough. I'm going to keep rambling here because you need to take this one to heart...
And rude men? Pushy, annoying.. any kind of hard to handle dude now sees you as precious and in need of protecting.. almost like their very own mothers. You are in for the taking-care-of of your life =)

4. Those scrambled eggs made me so hungry....

All I could do in my last 8 weeks was eat. And eat.. then all that eating would make me so hungry!
I would literally be cooking my breakfast and realize I would be hungry again as soon as I was done eating, so I would turn on the oven and throw in a miniature Cauliflower crust pizza.
It's ok to eat. Really.. you need it.

3. All of those nosy, rude comments? They're made by people who love you and mean well. Be nice.


It's hard to do.. but remember that it's not intended as a slight or to mean that you're not a good mother.
If you realllllly get to a point where you can't handle it, realize that people only ask you about your pregnancy/nursery/birth plan so they can tell you about theirs. If you don't want to divulge your personal life, simply ask them about theirs.
Pregnancy is the thing that binds us all. It's the thing we've all got in common... and so you are now a representative of life itself. Get use to being a temporary celebrity and learn to flip the interview onto your new adoring fan.
Try saying 'We have a birth plan in place, but I'm curious about yours... what did you use as your focal point to keep you motivated through pushing?

2. It's harder than you think it's going to be... But that's ok. You're stronger than you think you are.

 

 

The pregnancy was harder than I anticipated. It hurt more.. every day. You would never catch me 'glowwwing'.. sweating? Oh yes. Oily? Check! But glowing? Not here, buddy.
I didn't relish decorating the nursery or registering for gifts.. I just wanted the baby, not the stuff that comes with him! I often wondered how pregnant ladies always seemed so beautiful to me.. I was sure I always had a grimace of pain on my face... I had regular contractions from month 4..
Then there was Christmas season. Contractions 4-7 minutes apart for 6 weeks.
I worried what Abe's coworkers thought of me when we attended his work holiday party and I found myself a sweating mess, timing contractions and unable to speak through them...
Then, spending Christmas day crawling around our living room floor with our dogs.. trying to play cribbage with Abe between mind numbing back labor.
Around hour 50 of labor I thought... I just can't do it anymore.
I begged Abe.. if the baby hasn't come in the next 20 minutes, will you choke me out???? PLEASE!?
A blow to the back of the head to put me out for a little while.. I just need a break!

I was able to stay quiet enough until hour 54. I forgot why I had been pushing since 2pm. I forgot my name..
1. It's worth every second...At 7:30pm on December 26th, 2012, our midwife urges me to open my eyes and reach down. I reach blindly as she guides me to something warm and solid.
"Deliver your baby, Sara.. Push one more time and pull him out"
And with the last I had in me, I brought our son into the world.
He was so heavy and seemed so unhappy to be pulled out into the cold, but I brought him from his former residence up onto my chest. He cried as I stared at his dark hair, his furry ears, and his enormous blue eyes. We stayed like this, alone in a cacophonous room for ages..
When the umbilical cord stopped pulsing, his proud father broke the last thing that physically connected us.. his lifeline for the last 42 weeks. Our son opened his perfect eyes and looked up at me and I realized I would do it all again tomorrow if he asked me.

 



What are some of the surprising things YOU learned from you or a significant other's pregnancy?
Any advice to expectant Mamas?
Leave your comments or message me privately to share your story!!