Manduka US Site

January 19th, 2011

The Road Back To Myself

By Eka Ekong

I remember my first time on a yoga mat. At the suggestion of my then-boss, a devout Ashtangi, I took my first yoga class. It was a new, strange, yet exciting experience. I liken it to Bambi trying to stand up on roller-skates, a mixture of fumbles and limbs, gasps and frustration. Although trying, it felt as if I was engaged physically and on a higher plane of being. I also intuitively felt, at a soul level, that this practice was very special. In many ways, and for the first time in a long time, I felt I like I had come home.

I practiced, practiced and practiced. The more often I practiced yoga, the more I came into a deeper understanding of myself. People, experiences, desires that were once appealing to me, seemed to fall away. Being on my mat I felt a wave of sacredness, and as if I was being held by the hand of the Divine. It wasn’t a church in the traditional sense, but I was in the temple of my own inner light and wisdom. I felt at ease in my own skin. Through the window of my physical asana practice, I walked through the door of my own heart.

Often I am asked, why do you practice yoga? I share that yoga saved my life, and helps me to remember I Am That(So Hum). Yoga teaches me to honor the Spirit within myself, and within all things- That we are all connected, not just in those moments of happiness and love, but even in those moments when we seem separated, whether by distance or conflict, misunderstandings or circumstances.

Whether on my mat or teaching, my intention is embody this sacred heart and possibility of yoga; to honor this tradition that has been passed down through the centuries; to share that yoga is not a fad, or something that needs to be constantly re-invented; It is a tried and true methodology that if practiced with vigor, persistence, love and openness, can and will help us gracefully navigate the course of our existence.

Last year, my dear friend and relative who introduced me to my then-boss, passed away. I often think of how blessed I am to have met her (she was a vibrant, loving spirit who facilitated the meeting that would lead me to my mat), and the many other beloved souls who guide, inspire, and encourage me daily in my practice.

Each time I bring my palms together in Anjali mudra, I honor my beloved, departed friend, my teachers, my ancestors, my students, loved ones, and this tradition. I am continually challenged, humbled, and awed by the richness of this practice, for through its’ grace, I was led back to my Self.