Personalised yoga, teacher training, movement therapy, and mindful nutrition advice in Fourways

Ad (728x90)

Monday, 9 December 2019

The death of me

In retrospect, the past two years have been horrendous. And as I type this, I realise that it's pretty much exactly two years ago that things started changing. Details are not important, but suffice it to say my mental and physical wellbeing were put to the test. There were times that I couldn’t see a way out, there were times when I almost gave up completely. Actually, there were times when I did give up. That resigning, letting go, surrendering.

It was my sister, and a fantastic friend who were always there to remind me that there was good, that I was good. Cuen was a pillar of support, completely unjudgmental, and always there if I needed to talk or vent or cry or find out how to go about admitting myself to a special hospital… Yes, times were rough. No, I didn’t actually go. Because I had support, all around me were caring and loving friends whom I could and did speak to. About everything. …I’m almost embarrassed to admit that there are some almost complete strangers that know my whole life story… Over share was not on my list of cares.

But looking back on it now, it was because of that openness and (over)-communication that I came through it all. Talking was the therapy that I needed to put things into perspective, and to move on. It was the support of good people that kept reminding me where I was headed, and where I needed to let go.

Now I totally get that talking isn’t the optimal choice for everyone, but I’ve also seen the absolute horror that can come from complete silence. We need people around us, to bounce ideas off of, to get different opinions, for support and care, a shoulder to cry on, or just someone to vent to. Friends or strangers or psychologists. Your choice. But choose one.

I think I’ve come through the darkness. I’m hesitant to say it out loud for fear of being smited by the good ol’ universe… But who I am now is so vastly different from who I was, and I am so much stronger, so much more confident, and so much more focused on my own life. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger is such a cliché, but it’s true.

(And in my modesty) It feels like I’m a phoenix, risen from the ashes. The death of who I was, was a necessary step to becoming who I am meant to be.

At least I hope that’s what it was.

Reaching for the stars.
Vasistasana is a great pose, and a strong pose. And the slipping sand makes it harder. Just like life. 

blog mindfulness new spring stillness studio yoga
 

Cancellation policy | Copyright © Move me 2018
Distributed By My Blogger Themes | Template By Templateism
Design and build by Madnella Digital Design Development