Healing Deserves Celebration

I went to a yoga class the other week. The class was at my old studio. The same one where years ago I used to regularly take classes. Eventually, I worked the front desk. Finally, I taught as an instructor. One day, I would even meet my person there. 

So to be back in that same space felt sweet and full of memory. Before class, I sat on my mat and closed my eyes. I thought about all it took to arrive. All the little, miraculous victories that paved the way. All the big, hard, scary things and all the tiny, precious, fragile things. I found myself crying tears of gratitude as I took a moment to celebrate my healing journey. What a journey it’s been. 

I can tend to think of healing as big, hard and scary, and it can be. But more often than not, I find it in the tiny, precious, fragile things. Like closing my eyes on a yoga mat. Like teaching my nephew how to thank Mama Earth with an offering. Like holding the gaze of a loved one after they’ve shown me their deepest, sacred self. Like holding my hands to my own heart and remembering how far we’ve come. There is so much beauty in becoming my friends.