The Journey to The Journal

I turned to yoga first to take care of my body. Started taking random classes at my gym with Alonzo Nelson back when we lived and trained in LA. We held poses in between watching men who always skip leg day strut past the large windows of the group exercise room.

Then I made my way back to Florida. Man, is Florida undefeated for the level of tomfoolery it can turn out sometime. I made my way back to the yoga mat desperate for any thing gentle to counter my intense training. Constantly feeling wired, and in flight or fright is no way to live. I was introduced to Yin Yoga by Marie Myrbakk she unlocked dharma drops in magical ways. And when I stopped sleeping at night for a myriad of reasons it was her voice and Yoga Nidra that gave me the rest and space I needed to keep going. 

The funny thing about Dharma is that once you see it...once you hear it. You can’t go back. It shines a light on the dark places. And it becomes hard to live with yourself if you don’t follow its path. But be warned doing so isn’t always easy, or comfortable. My life started to rip at the seams.

I began practicing with Rebecca Wood at Palm Yoga in Tampa I mentioned an interaction we had in this Yoga Journal article. She introduced me to Living Your Yoga by Judith Hanson Lasater a book about taking the feeling I was escaping to the mat for-to my actual life. She saw me. She challenged me. And I met her there.

But like I said, once you know something you can’t unknow it. I left Florida.

You know why.

And embarked on a journey of piecing myself back together. I’d thought it’d be all up from here. Oh my goodness I was wrong. I lost so much. And I was losing it at a pace that scared the shit out of me. So I ran away to Bali. Alone.

That was my first meditation and yoga retreat. I was reintroduced to myself there. I came home buoyed by what I had found in the jungle. But wanted more.

I began following Stephanie Snyder and saw she was having a YTT (teacher training) at her studio Love Story Yoga in San Francisco. I couldn’t afford it, but I charged it to my American Express card and crashed on my best friend’s mom’s couch for six weeks with her cats and did my deep dive into yoga. The studio was welcoming and felt like home, even though I was scared and intimidated by Sanskrit (I took an entire Sanskrit workshop before training to get my confidence up) Steph and Susannah Freedman were familiar to me on a spiritual level. I soaked up all I could learn and returned home.

In the meantime divorce was kicking my ass. And I’d learn to anchor unpleasant and emotional court dates with yoga classes and workshops. That’s how I met Jen Pastiloff.

Jen P. is deaf, and so she gets really close to you to read your lips, or to hear you with her aids. Those women in attendance at that workshop lifted me up at a time when I was feeling beat down.

We stayed in touch. I upped my home practice. I attended Jen P’s On Being Human retreat on scholarship to Italy last summer. I was responsible for the travel (sorry Amex!) I met so many sisters there. Particularly Dr. Jen who I was partnered with for the very first exercise at Jen P’s workshop. Staring into her eyes uninterrupted for 3 minutes, 5 minutes, forever? I don’t even know. But we were different and we were connected at the soul after.

Jen P gave me the opportunity to lead a discussion at that retreat. I brought my medals because Jen P, whose book, “on being human” is now out in paperback has a chapter called “give yourself a medal” of which I have a couple. I shared my soul, but also the women shared their souls and stories and what they were giving themselves a medal for.

We had a medal ceremony for each woman who had gone unacknowledged for her efforts, her beauty, her resilience, her bravery.

And I got to drape my Olympic gold medals on each one of them.

After the retreat, Jen said you need to meet Lindsay, Lindsay Tucker is so cool. Like “epitome of cool” like Dean Martin, at least to me. And she also just-so-happens  to work for Yoga Journal.

And this...is the journey to the journal. 

All of this is how I came to be on the July/August cover of The Yoga Journal Magazine.

And even though I’m always playing “count the black people” when I attend a class, workshop or retreat. Teachers have made space for me here.

I have created space for myself here.

I want other people of color to know and understand that yoga was indeed created by people of color. That you are not “out of place” here. That that unwelcome or uncomfortable feeling you may have experienced trying out a new studio is NOT about Yoga. 

There are a lot of us. And maybe you don’t see us because we aren’t often “featured” we don’t all have the opportunity or platform to be on covers, and host “instagrammable” retreats, we are here.

Find us, we’ll walk you home.

Blogger’s Note: Winni Wintermyer was the photographer. David Searle was the make up artist. Timmeya Russell is responsible for my fierce braids! Lindsay Tucker wrote the article, Aviv Rubinstein filmed and recorded the podcast and BTS footage. Rachel Kennedy was the creative director of the shoot.