Break those Chains

glass & chain on tree at the Kroon homestead, Canon Digital Rebel XT

Something transpired in yoga class yesterday that I felt resonated with so much of what I shared in my last post.

The lights were dim, Zen relaxation music softly in the background, yoga mats arranged messily around the room, circling our yoga instructor who stood in the middle on the hardwood floor.

As we all laid flat on our backs with our knees up, listening intently to our instructions on a back bend with the help of blocks, her words began to crack and she burst into tears and said;

"I am so sorry; I am going through a really stressful time in my life."

She then put her hands to her face, wiped her tears and tried to continue with her instruction, through her sobs.

At first we all laid there on our backs, starring at the ceiling in a bit of shock. Then tears started to flow down the sides of my temples and I felt a huge lump in my stomach. I immediately felt like I was her, inside her body and her heart. I felt her sorrow, I felt her embarrassment, I felt her fear. That is what happens with an empath (More on that subject later since so many of you inquired a few posts ago).

Out of about 20 students in her class, just two of us sat up. I was sitting there, looking at her wide eyed, with my tears and empathy and another woman had a scowl on her face and fists to the floor. The other women said in exasperation;

"Please take a few minutes outside because I cannot do yoga if you're upset."

Both the instructor and I had a look of shock on our face. This other woman obviously was in a place of self centeredness. She was there for herself and the sobs of our beautiful instructor was not going to move through that.

Before our instructor walked out the door, she walked over near me on her way out the door to pick up an extra block and strap that were haphazardly in an empty space. She bent down to pick them up and looked up over at me. Her face softened and I saw that she was immediately aware that I was okay with her breaking down. I believed in it. I welcomed it.

I whispered to her; "You are so brave...please stay" and smiled.

She warmly smiled back, took a deep breath, put the items away in their shelves while wiping her tears with her sleeve and walked back into the middle of our room. She sat down on her mat, took another deep breath, glanced around the classroom with a bit of a giggle and continued her instruction with a shaky voice. I saw that her fear had dissipated and as the hour ticked on, her strength resurfaced.

While pondering that other woman's fear based response, it reminded me that perhaps not every woman sees it. That there are still women out there in this world, unbeknownst to them, that accept the chains, the expectations, the rules of how us women cannot show weakness in order to be equal to men.

But they don't see it like we do, do they? That opening up, spilling, unfolding, releasing, acknowledging, speaking our truths, is actually strength, not weakness and full of bravery.

We have much work to be done, creative sisters.

Let's continue to help break those chains.