This is not what the entirety of my yoga practice looked like a few days ago.
This is not what my yoga practice looks like all the time.
My body is a yoga body, and this may seem obvious from an external point of view.
I’m white, average size, able bodied.
If I had ‘straight and cisgender’ I’d be straight out of a yoga advertisement.
I am NOT the only yoga body. I am far, far from it.
I want to talk about this though because I do look like what the average person associates with a yoga body.
This is such a damaging mindset.
It’s easy for me to get caught in the “I’m not thin enough to do yoga” mindset.
I want to know who made that rule.
I want to know who the fuck said you cannot practice yoga unless you are a certain size, skin color, gender, ability.
I don’t think anyone has said it outright, but it is damn sure implied online and in classrooms.
Yoga has been so healing for me.
Other people deserve that.
Everyone deserves a connection to and an appreciation for their body in some way.
For me, that can be found through mindful movement.
Yeah, sometimes yoga feels like, hey, look at this cool thing I can do, but when I get down to the bottom of it, the practice is rooted in love.
This is my way of saying I know I hurt you in the past I will take care of you now.
It is my way of whispering to my body maybe I do not love you every second of the day but I appreciate you and all that you’ve endured.
Yoga is sometimes not feeling good enough.
I’m flexible and pretty strong, but there are still poses I want to do that I can’t yet.
Filming my practice can bring up issues with the way I look.
This is why most days the camera stays off.
I need time to close my eyes, listen to music, listen to breath.
I am powerful despite my exterior.
I just am.
My practice is.
This is but one way to do yoga.
This is but one way to live through yoga.
I stay on my hippie shit.
Balance is beautiful.
Thank you for being here with me through this.