Unfortunately, sometimes life takes a turn for the worse. In 2009 on my first day of college, I got a phone call that my mother had died. We were all caught completely off guard. I wanted to give up. I hated faking a smile every day, telling everyone "I'm fine." I was not fine. I could not get my feet back on the ground. Through therapy sessions and still feeling lost in my mind, I turned to a community yoga class.
I could barely touch my toes the first day. Through the practice and knowing shavasana was always at the end, I kept going back. For years, I kept going back. I could breathe again. Just when I thought I had mastered "the yoga", my younger brother died in 2015. This time I knew, life will try to knock us down. I felt both my mother and my brother were looking at me saying, "Keep going. Keep moving forward every single day." To this day I vow to practice at least once every week. Through this ritual, I've gained my life back.
I've gained my breathe back.
And I feel their presence through every shavasana.