Multiple times a week I drag a suitcase crammed with 20 tightly rolled hand me down yoga mats, 20 yoga straps, a donated ipod, and a hand me down speaker to various multipurpose rooms. I set up on hard linoleum floors/industrial grade carpet, under florescent lights, in shared space (meaning yoga is probably not the only thing happening at the time and/or there are people walking through the room during class aka distractions). I set an intention, adjust the lights, and wait for clients to arrive. These are a far cry from the carefully crafted yoga studio where flooring, lighting, heating, ambiance etc is all designed to enhance the practice. Yet, this is where the magic happens. This is where the addict who is suffering can find a glimmer of hope, the soul struggling with trauma can learn to befriend their body, children can learn to self regulate, and the under served can find accessibility.
Yoga doesn’t care what brand your pants are. Yoga doesn’t care how expensive your mat is. Yoga doesn’t care how top of the line your sounds system is. Yoga cares that you showed up. Yoga cares if you are present. Yoga cares what your breath is doing and how it feels. Yoga is an internal practiced designed to walk yourself home. The magic of yoga is it doesn’t matter if you are in jail, rehab, your private home, an ashram, or a multipurpose room it walks you back to your authentic self. It reminds you to breathe and be here now. It reminds you if you can breathe you can manage this moment, regardless of what is in front of you.
And now when I walk into a multipurpose room I simply smile and recognize it for the container for sacred healing that it is.