When the doctor left the room and announced the death of naa’ila the cry of my voice certainly reached the outskirts of town. In the middle of that night at the end of October 2014, I shouted to heaven for the sudden passing of my beloved young and beautiful daughter. That very moment of excruciating, excruciating pain contained the corollary of it: a pure state of bliss, of clear connection to some heavenly force pulling me out of reality. I no longer had feet, I could not feel the ground or the physical limits of my body. He had a special force that made me walk, talk and act. The following days were fast, full of people, crowds of colleagues and friends who came and went, helping or crying. In the midst of the momentum I kept repeating the same phrase: life goes on, if I stop teaching, the energy stops and if the energy stops, life stops. Life must go on and I will continue teaching.
On that day, twenty people sat in lotus and waited for the class to start. I did the class with the intention of sharing the breath of life, the thread that keeps us all alive, the thread of prana. Since that day, many events have unfolded at an accelerated pace and the time is drawing near to start sharing the heightened states of consciousness that I am experiencing.
How yoga helps me cope with grief from day one is still a developing story; however, I can share some interesting aspects:
– Deep connection with prana: I can instantly switch to another lens of experience and live yoga to the roots of any of its petals (ethics, focus, posture, concentration, meditation, happiness);
– discipline: the more I practice, the less I carry the grievance like a heavy weight, I can cry during a practice and it can burst at any moment, but crying is not a grievance but liberation;
– I find harmony, balance and strength in addition to routine in practice: the discipline of routine gives me focus to take care of myself;
– The ego is gone: I practice because I need to do something. The practice is all I have to share, the purpose.
In this current incarnation, my life has taken several paths. Like the branches of a banyan tree, most of them have given birth to beautiful and healthy green leaves, and as in the natural cycle of nature, there has also been a change. The green leaves turn brown and fall off giving rise to other growing shoots. Approximately four or five changes have been developed. From dancer to international corporate manager and humanitarian worker to holistic healer, life coach and yoga instructor, I have brought to life a beautiful mixed-race daughter who grew up as a third culture child, set up a healing studio and developed an experience more espacious. vision to establish a fully fledged Yoga and Wellness Studio reaching into unusual geographic areas for a healing business: Burkina Faso.
My daughter was a beautiful being, strong and healthy, intelligent and cheerful, patient and graceful. Experiencing her sudden death at my own hands in just about twelve hours due to high fever, I reshuffled all my life cards with no exceptions. She also triggered the immediate and expanded use of all the healing tools ever acquired and learned in the last two decades. Also, she led my life to a deeper path of self-discovery. The sale of all belongings, the delivery of the studio, my daughter in ashes, here I was with two small pieces of luggage and a journey to develop more deeply.
I write this post from the foothills of the Himalayas where I have attended a Yogi initiation course. By the time I leave this place, thirteen weeks will have passed during which time I will surely have met new tools, but I will have learned to mourn my loneliness in silence and cleared some foundations to establish a new path on my journey: Yogi Mom’s Solo Journey . I miss my partner like the sea would miss the water, but I know that she listens to me, she sees me and even visits us here. So I’m at peace. I am learning to live in a reality where Naila It is always present in your absence.
Namaste everyone!