Yin To The Rescue at Amana Yoga: Boulder, CO: October 15, 2019

You know what this is? Heaven. A yin class a few blocks from the theater and at I time I could easily attend. Thank you Tour Gods. Thank you Yoga Gods.

I used to think touring was like a strong vinyasa class but really it’s a lot more like yin. I realized this today in pigeon pose, in a yin class where I’m always practicing at my edge, teetering on the threshold of pain so intense I think I’m going to die.

I’ve done my most intense learning in the yin practice and the same can be said about touring. In yin, we have a set amount of poses, held at an extended period of time, and at the point where pain is in plain view, but not so intense you can’t see straight.

The same happens on tour: we have a series of shows over an extended period of time, and I’m on edge…always. But unlike the yin class I topple over on occasion into blinding pain. I can’t see myself, or anyone or anything around me as wonderful or divine. A lot of the time out here I’m in this deal too deep. This can be especially difficult in the confines of a tour bus in the middle of a tour where there’s no escape.

This is when I drop into my stories. These maps and well-worn roads that declare “I’m not worthy, you’re not my tribe”, and wail “poor me”. But that’s been also what has been healing about this tour life; new roads are forging because I’m so tired of carrying the baggage. My inner world is revising herself. The tread on my heart is smoothing out and softening up as a result of road wear. I’m feeling strong and resilient these days. Not hardened, mind you, but steady on my own two feet. I have enough self love and self care in me to have some love left over for others without having to try so damn hard to be loving and a nice person.

This is a miracle.

The first experience I ever had of crossing the threshold of pain was in a yin class, years ago in Ojai, California, while practicing with a group of friends who gathered together every Wednesday evening. I’d reached a point in lunge pose where I thought for sure right there I’d die from the pain. It was all there, not just the physical in my psoas and left hip, but also my sense of unworthiness, of regret of a life lived beneath my best, of fear of the future, of shame of my past. I thought I would literally combust, breaking open through my skin and shedding blood and guts as I exploded in a million pieces. With a long exhale I dared to cross that boundary of pain.

My leg didn’t break off but part of my heart did. The relief from knowing the mind is a Truth slayer and faith, trust, love, and courage are real cracked my heart wide open. And in that brokenness I found room to keep going with a little more courage, to breakthrough what keeps me small and scared, by body tight, and my mind unclear.

This experience was a set up for the tour life. Of that, I’m sure.

Health, Love, and Rock N Roll