“Don’t ask yourself what the world needs. Ask yourself what makes you come alive and then go do that. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.” Dr. Howard Thurman
As a high school student, I became an activist. I started a peace club at my school. In our small republican-dominated town, we held rallies, school walk-outs, painted peace-signs on the American flag, wore buttons. We chartered a bus and went to NYC to protest (unsuccessfully) with millions against W. Bush’s plans to invade Iraq. The back of my silver Honda Civic, which was older than I was at the time, was covered in bumper stickers. Way too many to just fit on the bumper. No war for oil. God is coming and she’s pissed. An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind. Live simply so that others may simply live. A Canadian flag. The back of my car was ready to change the world.
Then, in grade eleven, I went to a tiny, poor, resource-depleted, former French colony called Burkina Faso. Generally, people didn’t have a clue that its in West Africa and its capital is Ouagadougou. Mostly I went so I could live in a place with four syllables and three ou’s. Also to go to an International school on exchange, learn French, and volunteer. I lived there for six months, enough time to get really angry and sad about social inequalities, post-colonialism, conservative missionaries, and culturally insensitive development work. Then I came home, with a few parasites in tow, and tried to raise money and awareness for Burkinabe organizations. I graduated, and applied for University with plans to go into International Development, Economics, or Anthropology. Degrees I thought would equip me further to save the world.
But somewhere in between Africa and University I started getting sick a lot. Chronic headaches, thyroid issues, adrenal issues. I cut a number of things out of my diet, worked with a naturopath, made my yoga practice more regular. I got a bit better.
I started doing more activist work again. I volunteered at the University Womyn’s Centre, co-Produced the Vagina Monologues, coordinated the Peace Society. I moved to Montreal for a year, taught English to immigrants, was secretary for a start-up environmental NGO. I got sick again, I got depressed. I was burnt out, and felt like my body just wouldn’t keep up with everything I need to do to save the world.
I started doing more yoga, and less activism. Slowly yoga started to transform me. The practice has deepened for me, to the point where it has been a part of my daily life for over two years. The yoga I have experienced is not a practice that transformed me to be “different” or “better” but a practice that has taken me on an inward journey into a more spacious way of being with what is and recognizing that that is enough. Somewhere I realized that maybe the world doesn’t need saving. The hardliner activist shell softened. There are millions of things that I’d like to be different in the world. But right now I’m going to start with making peace with my body, and smiling as I say hello to the bus driver. I want to eat a conscious, mostly vegetarian diet, but not be anal or extreme about it. I don’t want to wear buttons. I want to take a deep breath and notice what’s going on in my body before I make a decision. I want to walk and take public transportation, and buy local. I want to support my students, and try and make their lives a bit brighter. I’m not saving the world, but I do feel like I’m touching people in my community. And if my students feel a little more grounded, a bit less stressed, anxious or depressed, a little more open, a bit more inspired, then they’re probably making a difference in their communities too. And it so ripples out.
This transformation feels whole to me. It feels sustainable. It feels authentic and alive. That’s yoga.
