7 Years
A friend sent me this photo this morning. I had no idea this photo existed.
Cue the tsunami of emotions (scary shit) that consumed me.
First: My little Loki! He was about 2 years old, and still such a bad dog. He looks so young. We have obviously gone completely grey together. He’s still my little man, on an adventure with me.
Then I remember my friend. I met him at the first ever yoga festival I had gone to, and met him in the very first workshop: acro yoga with YogaSlackers. Of course, all my neurotic shit came out in that first class when the most awful statement in a class was said: find a partner. Thankfully, I met this awesome person. We met up again the next year (photo above), and skipped something to instead go hiking (it’s Telluride for fuck sake). Thus, the story of this photo.
Then.
Everything outside the frame of this pic came back.
7 years ago:
2nd time at Telluride yoga festival. Yoga was becoming a big part of my life. It was becoming my refuge and my enemy. I was so fascinated and curious with what was going on between me & my mat. Yoga was also the place where I cried constantly. It was where I started thinking about awful shit that I never wanted to think about.
I was still married, with a different name. Literally, not myself.
I was a full time retail store manager. I worked a million hours a day. Hating EVERY minute of EVERY day.
My other love, my dog Jac, was still with me. He was there somewhere on that hike with us. He loved Telluride. He crossed the rainbow bridge a few years ago.
This was probably in one of the scariest times for me; I knew that I was trapped, but I had no clue how to move forward. It was dark and stagnant. I didn’t have the tools or courage or the emotional intelligence to help myself. I was feeling my Spirit scraping her fingernails at my insides telling me how miserable we were. But, I thought that life was it for me. This was how I was going to feel forever. I was trying to manage my life with knowing that I was miserable and dying from the inside out.
I look at myself in this pic, and I want to tell the woman standing there to hold on tight.
I want to shake her and tell her to start the changes now. Don’t wait. Things will not get better.
I want to tell her that in the next year, she will go to teacher training and that her life will change forever.
I want to tell her to know that her instincts are right and to trust herself.
I want to tell her that she will be a good teacher.
I want to let her know that in 3 years she will change her career. She won’t have to go back to the retail world she hates so much.
I need to tell her that she will get out. It will happen.
I want to warn her that shit is going to be hard. Real hard. You will lose people. You will be lonely and scared. It will be ok though. Just hold on.
I want to warn her that the yoga world is just as ugly as any other. Not everyone is kind or safe. Don’t be fooled by mala beads and self indulgent asshats with their fake spirituality bullshit. Don’t let anyone make you feel like they are better than you. Trust me, they are awful humans. Don’t let anyone make you feel as though they are better or more spiritual or more enlightened. They’re not. Trust me. You’ll see.
I want to tell her that she will smile. She will be happy and hopeful.
I want to show her that she has a whole new life in front of her. One that she builds.
I want to tell her not to throw away those boot leg leggings she’s wearing. There will be a pandemic that puts you in a fashion phase of lounge wear chic.
Also, younger Holly, make sure you moisturize not just your face, but the neck too!
Holly 7 years ago: You’re going to be just fine. Trust yourself. Don’t be scared. Me & Loki will be here waiting for you.