See, the thing is, I'm actually an introvert. It's a bit confounding, even to me, because I have a large, showy personality and a big, extrovert job (teaching public yoga classes to a couple hundred students a week, training yoga teachers to get comfortable teaching in front of groups), but I have a strong need for a lot of quality alone time. And, although I have a bit of a performer streak, and am comfortable talking to crowds, and posting tons of asana pictures on Instagram, I also somewhat eschew public attention and often just want a quiet night in, alone. I like a couple hours each morning for my practices, and prefer a couple evenings in each week as well.
So when my wedding was called off in a public way--my wedding that was simultaneously a deeply personal, meaningful act and a public gesture--and all of the staff at Maha was informed that there would in fact be no wedding, I found my private, introvert-oriented world crashing into my public extrovert persona in an irreconcilable way. I was wedged right in between the proverbial rock and the hard place. I had nowhere to go; feeling that I hadn't any agency, and could only sit in the limelight and unravel. It was much like some of my least favorite yoga poses: those sticky, bound seated poses where one finds oneself with nowhere to go but towards deeper breaths. It's nearly invisible work that gives little leverage, but it's the best that can be done in such situations.
Then the yoga reminded me: these moments are the exact ones I've been practicing for: this precise deal of the cards, when I get the hand I want the least. I always have the dignity of how I choose to receive this life, this challenge, this particular rock/ hard place configuration. Like Victor Frankl would remind us: "When we are unable to change the situation, we are challenged to change ourselves."
I was challenged with a lesson that whenever I lean into the thing that is not my silent, hushed preference--that does not come easily--that my insides are screaming 'I don't want,' there is potential for deep growth, healing, transformation there. So when the introvert in me who is always holding it together had to fall apart publicly, I saw myself in entirely new ways. I found the growth edge and cracked wide open. I hated it and needed it all at once.
So I freaked out a bit in my obsessive yogi way. I practiced the entire yoga syllabus as photographed by Darren Rhodes over four days (all pictures in this article are from that weekend). I rode my bike back and forth across town, binged on too much coffee, baked tarts, pies and cookies, and sat in meditation. I was up before dawn and had a time period where I honestly forgot to eat (and realized what the vatas go through!). I worked a lot and I dropped the ball. I reached out for support and I drew deeply inside.
And now I'm moving through this situation as so many divorced people have done before me. I'm finding support all around me, especially in the steadiness at Maha Yoga and its staff of teachers and desk help, and I know Maha Yoga will continue to thrive. Turns out it's ok to fall apart publicly and accept the help of loved ones and friends. To turn the inside out.
Justicia DeClue is a longtime lover of life and practice. She is the co-owner of Maha Yoga in Philadelphia. Her acclaimed Instagram feed @justicia_declue documents her #alltheposes yoga syllabus project, which she is teaching as a public, urban retreat in Philly October 9-12, 2015.
