About Me & My Journey Back to Yoga

When I first began practicing in 2010, I viewed yoga as exercise.  I muscled into poses and gauged my success on how well I could replicate the Western ideal of the asanas.  I was filled with pride and ambition, and yoga was a venue in which I could perform and prove my prowess. 

However, the more I attended classes, the more awareness began to seep into my consciousness.  I began to realize the asana practice was not about perfect poses.  Perfection is a worldly construct and the enemy of freedom.   In my case, the pursuit of perfection was creating a lot of frustration.  I noticed that I was out of balance—incredibly strong, but equally inflexible. I could not muscle into flexibility.  Flexibility required a softening and a patience that I had not cultivated, but which was sorely needed in all aspects of my life.

The practice was extending its proverbial hand to me and inviting me to a place of allowing, and self-acceptance. It was an unfamiliar place and one that often led to bouts of intense emotion.

My hard, protective shell was being cracked open and it was both terrifying and wonderful. Before long, the yoga mat became my sanctuary.  It was a magic carpet of sorts, a place of transformation, and hope…a safe place.  Yoga asked very little of me except that I show up, be willing, and trust the process. 

Trust is not always easy. Louise Hay would always encourage her students to be willing:  willing to forgive, willing to change, willing to accept.  Her words have always stuck with me.  I was willing to trust, willing to learn, willing to change, and willing to heal.

With the discovery of yoga, my feet had been firmly set on a new path, one that I would have never imagined.

In late 2011, I applied for teacher training with Anjali Sunita at the wonderful Baltimore Yoga Village. I never intended to become a teacher.  I entered those eleven months of training to save myself and change the trajectory of my life, and that it did. 2012 became a year of transformation and healing, and it opened a new world for me. I would never be the same. 

When I opened Earth Pulse Yoga in 2014, I brought with me all that I had learned and experienced. There were the technical aspects of alignment and good form, and the spiritual aspects cultivated through breath, silence, and sound.

When I closed the studio in 2022, I was exhausted with the business of yoga and the unfortunate changes that resulted from the Covid years.  I thought that chapter of my life had closed.  I had a new vision, one that involved the left-brain world of numbers and logic.

Little did I realize that a major injury was on the horizon with a lesson that needed to be bored into the marrow of my essence.

During the late spring of 2022 I aggravated my right shoulder due to some over-zealous gardening. A shovel slamming dry earth is never a good idea, but I had a vision, and I was impatient. The shoulder was sore, but I had full range of motion, and I was able to employ good alignment to continue with my practice.  However, in early 2023, a friend and I were hobnobbing in nature.  Due to recent rains, a small stream impeded our hike.  I had not worn appropriate shoes and was not interested in getting wet, but my friend traversed the water, held out his hand, and with a well-meaning and firm grip, he tugged me across the stream.  I felt the pain immediately.  In fact, it took my breath away.

For nearly four months I endured sleepless nights where I tossed and turned, unable to find a comfortable position.  For a good six-week period that discomfort was so bad that I would take an Epsom salt bath between two and three in the morning to get some relief from the pain.

I never had chronic pain in my life before this injury.  For those who were challenged by pain, I was empathetic, but I didn’t understand until I took the journey myself. Chronic pain is disabling. It affects every part of your life.  Life feels compromised and contracted. You can’t sleep and food doesn’t taste the same. Depression can set in.

From the very beginning, I knew my body could heal itself. A physical therapist advised me that I had not torn my rotator cuff, but I had a severe pull injury. Healing was going to take time.

I believe that God/Universe is always conspiring for our highest good even when our reality doesn’t look (or feel) good at all.  There was a message that God wanted me to hear, and it took a debilitating arm and shoulder injury to get me to pay attention.   

I realized that my full-throttle life needed to slow down to a trot.  My life had gone off-course and I needed to find my center. I had stepped away from both my creative ventures—writing and teaching yoga—and even though I spent a lot of time in nature, I was in severe spiritual misalignment. 

Injuries have a way of exposing our illusions and self-deception.  They invite us into the stillness and silence, where the truth whispers and where we notice synchronicities and the signs all around us.  The wisdom of the Universe is revealed through others, songs, and from words that suddenly stand out on the page.  

My message was imploring me to make self-nurture a priority; and even though I was unable to nourish myself on the yoga mat, I was being called back to a daily practice of pranayama and meditation.   With the help of a myofascial therapist, my physical body began to heal, and after nearly six months, I returned to the mat. 

To my chagrin, nearly every pose—even child’s pose—was a challenge.  It was obvious that the journey would be long and slow, and any pushing would be met with setback.  To support my healing, I began a Dinacharya (daily routine) of yoga, meditation, pranayama, and other nourishing practices.  These became my priority, and slowly my physical body began to heal.

It was not until early November that I attempted the 8-limbed pose and upward facing dog.  It took until mid-December for my arms to feel comfortable in warrior two and triangle. Little by little and practice by practice, my strength and flexibility improved. When I felt that I may have pushed too far, I switched gears to a floor practice of gentle forward folds and twists.

I have always seen yoga as a spiritual practice, but my injury was attuning my approach to an ever slower and more meaningful asana practice.  I was being called into building resiliency through patience and the foundation of my breath.  Spirit was calling me increasingly inward, and inviting me to discover the wisdom, peace, joy, and freedom that is waiting for each of us.

As part of my awakening, I realized that it was time for me to return to teaching.  I was led to Divinity Lutheran, a lovely church tucked within the Hampton neighborhood.  I walked into the great room and was greeted by cathedral ceilings, beautiful windows, and a backdrop of towering oaks and poplars.  I instantly knew that this lovely space would be perfect for my re-entry. 

As you might expect, I will be leading a slow-paced and mindful asana practice. I have fully embraced traditional Hatha Yoga where strength of body and mind is cultivated through long holds and the anchor of the breath. 

In Hatha Yoga, asana prepares the body for pranayama and meditation.  It is through the union of these practices and incorporating the other elements of the eight-fold path that we are drawn into a state of peace, joy, and wondrous love.

I am still on this journey, and I invite you to come and explore with me.

With Light,

-Wendy