Nothing in my past would have pointed to the reality today that I am the owner of a yoga studio. My entrepreneurial aspirations a couple of decades ago were to own a fashion boutique. That seems like a long time ago.
My deepest held dream for as long as I can remember was to become an archaeologist. I have a passion for the ephemera of ancient life buried beneath the soil. I am intrigued most by the mundane, by things as ordinary as ceramic vessels. Thousands of years ago, a woman much like myself probably held the ceramic artifact I excavated and hold in my hands today in the 21st century. That vessel connects us across the millennia.
In a crazy, round-about way, archaeology led me to yoga. Before I explain how this happened, I must share a philosophy I have maintained since my 40th birthday. I believe that this milestone birthday affords you the vantage point to look back and see how the seemingly disparate parts of your life add up to where you are today. In my experience, at least, I found that prior to turning 40 I hadn’t gained enough wisdom to reflect on the events of my past. After celebrating my fourth decade, my perspective changed and somehow the pieces of my life began to make sense.
The path revealed itself. Like skipping stones, the various life markers I saw stretched out behind me were not separate, even though they were distinct. I recognize now that these independent life events are in fact connected despite the sense of having jumped from one to the next.
The stones I skipped across are each a story in and of themselves, but collectively they are what led me to becoming the owner of Main Street Yoga in Speedway, Indiana. To sum it up as briefly as possible, I fulfilled my archaeological dreams by living in Israel for six years where I worked for the Israel Antiquities Authority in archaeological restoration. I lack words to express how grateful I am to have had the opportunity to live my passion.
After returning to the States, I struggled with being sedentary in front of a computer all day. I longed for the out-of-doors. A friend introduced me to cycling, which I embraced to a point
of obsession. I cycled thousands of miles a year. Weather was never a deterrent as I pedaled to log more hours than I had ridden the year before.
A fellow cyclist remarked that my sport of choice was linear. I was always pushing forward, yet the body, she pointed out, was built to move in all directions. She suggested yoga as a way to enhance my cycling. If yoga would make me a stronger cyclist, I was all for it. I purchased a video by Rodney Yee entitled “Yoga for Athletes.”
Even though it seemed that my hands were never destined to meet my feet in a forward fold, I stuck with it, watching that same video over and over again. For more than 10 years I practiced yoga with Rodney in my living room on my aging video player. I admired his flexibility. His soft voice coaxed me to wrap my legs and arms and stretch in ways that were as pleasing as they were unfamiliar. The music soothed my Western nerve-endings. I was hooked.
How a yoga practice in the privacy of my home led to becoming a studio owner leading rows of students through a Vinyasa practice week after week is a story for future blogs. All the stones I skipped across from one continent to another and back made me what I am today, an accidental yogi.
I hope you will follow my blog, “The Accidental Yogi.” There are more stories to tell and more revelations to reveal. I encourage you to share yours as well. We have much to learn from one another.