Throw a little glitter on it honey go dancing!

When I showed up at the Costa Rica Yoga Spa a year ago for my intensive yoga teacher training, I only knew one of my teachers, Ashley, whom I met at a workshop she led in Charlotte. Other than Ashley, I didn't know any of the people i was spending the next three weeks of my life with. As an ice breaker for the trainees, my teachers Ashley and Rebecca had us partner up and come up with a "bumper sticker" that represented who we are. Nichole, my partner, is an emotionally free artist and immediately told me her bumper sticker would say "Creative Chaos." I was immediately envious of her eloquent and poignant description snuggled into two words. I'm the most laid back firecracker you've ever met. So as I tried to describe to Nichole that I am a walking paradox, even relating myself to the Meredith Brooks song, "Bitch", Nichole says, "so you're like, Fuck You, Namaste." I laughed and said yeah! Serendipitously, that happens to be the title of Ashley's book. And so, "Fuck You, Namaste" became a bit of a theme during our yoga teacher training. In the past few weeks, as I've reevaluated the dramas in my own life, I've had to face my own truth. I am the only person who has control over how much drama walks into my life. This doesn't mean I have the power to keep my grandmother out of the hospital, or to stop a friend from passing away. It doesn't mean that I have to power to stop people from saying mean, hurtful things about me or belittling me to my face. What this means is that I have the control over how much it takes hold of my thoughts. I have the control to say, "fuck you, namaste" to any given situation. Today I feel as though I finally understood what "Fuck You, Namaste" means; recognize the pain, but don't harp on it. And what better place to have such a revelation than on my yoga mat. Almost every class I teach I try to remind my students as often as possible that the physical practice is only one of the 8 limbs of yoga. But the beauty is what we can learn about life and ourselves through the physical body. And we have constant reminders of these lessons. Months back when I first started practicing ashtanga, a bird defecated all over my head during my walk to practice. As soon as I reached the studio I washed my face and hair and even snorted a little incense to get the smell out of my nose. There was no escaping it. As my teacher assisted me in marichiasana d, an incredible deep twisty contortionist pretzel like pose that made me question my sanity for doing it for months (for those of you unfamiliar), all I could smell was the bird poop I couldn't get out of my nose. My teacher kept yelling at me, "BREATH RACHEL." I finally decided to give in because I knew that bird poop wasn't going anywhere and very quickly, the smell was unnoticeable and for the first time I felt at peace in that pose. Essentially, that is what the "Fuck You, Namaste" mantra means to me. The ability to recognize discomfort, pain, let it go and recognize the light in it. Life happens, pain is inevitable, but how you choose to respond is what dictates the affect on your life. As Jay Z says, got some dirt on my shoulders, could you brush it off for me?