Why I enrolled… Again

For over a decade, I've had the privilege of learning with Meghan and have participated twice in the transformative 40-day journey for self-discovery. I've delved into profound contemplations, spent countless hours pondering life's complexities through the yogic lens, and this spring, I find myself drawn once more to this grounding process.

Why do I return? Have I not grasped the lessons from my previous journeys?

The answer is simple: I am constantly evolving. The person I am today is vastly different from who I was during my previous sessions. My perspectives have shifted, my personal life has transformed, and the space Meghan creates allows me to explore these changes with depth and honesty.

When I first enrolled in the 40 days, I was ending an engagement, navigating through heartbreak and embarrassment. Yet, through this process, I discovered empowerment and a new direction for my life. I learned to be present with my transition, to forgive myself for past mistakes, and to embrace the discomfort of uncertainty.

The second time I embarked on the program, I was adjusting to motherhood and dealing with the aftermath of a traumatic birth and postpartum depression. It was a period when even my daughter's smile couldn't lift the veil of sadness. But again, the program provided a sanctuary. Through breathing, reflection, and the support of my community, both within the studio and beyond, I found my way through that challenging chapter.

Now, at 41, with two young children and transitioning into perimenopause, I find myself at another crossroads. Life has recently handed me its fair share of trials with friends and family, leaving me feeling out of place at times. I feel an odd mix of wisdom and confusion. I’m straddling two worlds of thought and sensation.

So, I choose to invest again in this journey with Meghan. Each session has proven to be a grounding force, bringing me into the present moment and helping me navigate the landscape of my life. It provides a safe space to hold all my emotions and transitions, a nurturing ground where I can treat myself with kindness and understanding.

Meghan is not just a teacher who imparts knowledge; she is a guide who helps you unearth your own truths. Every year, as I change, the insights I gain from these sessions evolve because the questions I bring are different. I hope to see you there.

With love,

Krista


PS. With the approaching mothers day, I recently published this letter I wrote to my husband about my big emotions with this upcoming holiday. This piece of writing also speaks to the transitions of life and perspective. I have added it to this blog for a little extra reading if you are interested…

Dear husband,

I am writing this letter to you in the hopes that it deepens our connection as we approach Mother's Day. I know that you will be the loving and kind husband, as you have been in previous years. However, I am finally starting to understand something that I never did before. I am starting to understand why Mother's Day feels tender and why gifts and gestures don't seem to fulfill me.

You see, motherhood has completely pulled me apart. It has torn down every thought I ever had about myself and the world around me. Motherhood looked me in the eyes and said, "You think you know, but knowing is not thinking."

Motherhood isn't just hard; it has been the most uncomfortable and soul-crushing unraveling of my entire being. It has brought everything I have previously tried to "therapize" or control straight to my dinner table, where I have to be with it, look at it, and sit with it every day. Day in and day out. With no breaks.

This leads to the next reasonable assumption: I need a break. A spa day. A massage. It seems like a reasonable thought because the "soul-crushing unraveling of my being" can leave a girl feeling pretty tired.

But I wear my fatigue well. I am proud of my messiest and most painful days because of the deep wisdom they have provided me. You see, my friend, I feel my anger, joy, sorrow, and love more intensely than ever before. And I don't just react. I sit and deeply experience my humanity. Alone in my experiences and growth. This kind of personal growth doesn't happen in public.

So, my love, if I seem melancholy this upcoming Sunday, it's because I am alone in this life-changing motherhood process, and that brings up a lot of feelings. And it's okay. Because it isn't sadness or pain that I feel... it's pure love. Love for you, our beautiful children, but most importantly, love for myself.

This is where I hope this letter helps. Motherhood has awakened me to my potential. I have accomplished more within these scars and tears, diapers and fevers, hospitals and swim lessons than I ever thought possible. I want you to know how in awe I am. In awe of my journey, of the woman I have become. How selfless and strong I am, how patient and passionate, how open and vulnerable, how easy it is for me to say "I'm sorry," and how I have a wiser use of my energy. How dedicated I am to life, love, and forgiveness. By giving life to others, I have been awakened to my own.

On this Mother's Day, please remember the woman I was before these souls were brought into this world and how many light years I have come from her. Thank you for being my witness, thank you for understanding that it is hard to acknowledge this journey, and thank you for trying year in and year out. The flowers and cards will be perfect, and maybe this year, you could also say to me, "I see you and how incredible you are, and all that you have become."

Your wife

Next
Next

(un)Expected Weather