"how i became a warrior" - Jeff Foster

I'd like to preface this post by saying I'm pretty dense when it comes to poetry. I'm not here to regale you with my analysis about what is being said between the lines. This one just resonated at the perfect time, and I'm writing this post in hopes that it will find someone with whom it resonates as profoundly.

In the 8 weeks I've lived in PA,  I have found many gems. One of which, is an incredible yoga studio here in Phoenixville. Who knew. So far, every 1 & 1/2 hour class I've attended has been like a therapy session. A layer is shed, a puddle of tears is cried out, a shift in perspective born. Needless to say, I was overwhelmingly moved by my last class. I've even told several friends about it, my condensed version impacting them. Maybe this will hit home for you too. 

April 14th, 2018 was the first day the temperature hit 80 degrees. The first day it got above 60F in all honesty. Appropriately, the theme of the class was about transitioning into spring. Leaving winter behind and coming into a new season. We've had a long winter here in lovely PA. Several snow storms, a lot of rain, cold winds and dark days. Emotionally and physically, the heaviness of winter resides in the body. We are so ready for this stunning weather, we are ready to shed the weight. To do so, however, you have to go deep AF. You have to do the work, emotionally and physically.

And so we do.

My teacher starts by having us visualize the hardships of our respective winters. She guides us to imagine  being submerged under the metaphorical blanket of the dark, the heavy, the never ending cold. Through the 90 minute course, in a nut shell, we gracefully move out of from underneath this blanket, embrace the pain, and go back under it. All the while cultivating our inner fire, light & power. As one does on a Saturday morning.

Halfway into class, she has us in malasana. I am not a fan of this pose. I sit on a block at it's highest level in hopes that my very tight hips will loosen. She reads a poem and we close our eyes, in a posture where the mecca of emotions reside. Open and vulnerable.  

h o w   i   b e c a m e   a   w a r r i o r
written by Jeff Foster

Once, I ran from fear
so fear controlled me.
Until I learned to hold fear like a newborn.
Listen to it, but not give in.
Honor it, but not worship it.
Fear could not stop me anymore.
I walked with courage into the storm.
I still have fear,
but it does not have me.
*
*
*
Once, I was ashamed of who I was.
I invited shame into my heart.
I let it burn.
It told me, "I am only trying
to protect your vulnerability".
I thanked shame dearly,
and stepped into life anyway,
unashamed, with shame as a lover.
*
*
*
Once, I had great sadness
buried deep inside.
I invited it to come out and play.
I wept oceans. My tear ducts ran dry.
And I found joy right there.
Right at the core of my sorrow.
It was heartbreak that taught me how to love.
*
*
*
Once, I had anxiety.
A mind that wouldn't stop.
Thoughts that wouldn't be silent.
So I stopped trying to silence them.
And I dropped out of the mind,
and into the Earth.
Into the mud.
Where I was held strong
like a tree, unshakeable, safe.
*
*
*
Once, anger burned in the depths.
I called anger into the light of myself.
I felt its shocking power.
I let my heart pound and my blood boil.
Listened to it, finally.
And it screamed, "Respect yourself fiercely now!".
"Speak your truth with passion!".
"Say no when you mean no!".
"Walk your path with courage!".
"Let no one speak for you!"
Anger became an honest friend.
A truthful guide.
A beautiful wild child.
*
*
*
Once, loneliness cut deep.
I tried to distract and numb myself.
Ran to people and places and things.
Even pretended I was "happy".
But soon I could not run anymore.
And I tumbled into the heart of loneliness.
And I died and was reborn
into an exquisite solitude and stillness.
That connected me to all things.
So I was not lonely, but alone with All Life.
My heart One with all other hearts.
*
*
*
Once, I ran from difficult feelings.
Now, they are my advisors, confidants, friends,
and they all have a home in me,
and they all belong and have dignity.
I am sensitive, soft, fragile,
my arms wrapped around all my inner children.
And in my sensitivity, power.
In my fragility, an unshakeable Presence.
*
*
*
In the depths of my wounds,
in what I had named “darkness”,
I found a blazing Light
that guides me now in battle.
*
*
*
I became a warrior
when I turned towards myself.

And started listening.


Letting the words flow through my heart, my head, my body, I wipe a tear (or several) from my wet cheek. The heaviness & lightness of these words juxtapose confusingly as I let my feelings dance in my cells. It was as though she was speaking straight to me, straight through me. Words so deeply profound, so deeply buried, words that I've been dying to say but didn't know how to express. Well Shit.

As my knees start to ache, I begin to take deeper breaths. She sweetly tells us to come out of the posture, to stretch and start moving in a way that the words moved us. I look around and see my fellow yoginis smile, lighter than an hour ago. "Hey ya" by Outkast thuds loudly from the speaker. I found the blazing light. I turned towards myself. I started listening. And we danced. 

xoxo,
LRM