When I delivered my personally designed class as part of my teacher training this past weekend, my instructor said that the tone of my voice, the theme of my practice and my aura conveyed a tone of self-love--she said people will heal themselves, will love themselves with my yoga.
Of course, I thought. That's the point. At least, that's the point for me. Self-love, that's what brought me to yoga. I needed to love myself. My body and my mind and my soul had existed on separate planes for most of my life. I suffered from eating disorders for several years in intervals throughout my life. It hits me now that I could have ended my life during those periods--my health was on the line and my view of myself was so distorted and out of touch that I never really saw me at all.
My pregnancy with my daughter helped--A LOT. Yet after her birth, I was still at odds, caught between my body image and reality.
After the birth of my son and having immersed myself in two wonderful and full pregnancies--periods of immense self-interest and self-love, I found yoga.
I think I thought it was hip at first, like "everyone" was doing 'it', so would I.
I bended, I flexed, I stretched, I chanted, I soaked up the love radiating from my heart--of myself, to myself. The merger was beginning. It was a gradual merging of my planes of existence--body with mind with soul.
I am still amidst the change, my yoga evolves ever more, every day and every time. If I can bring this to other people, my cup runneth over. It's never too late to love yourself and it's never too early to start.