...and the fat closed in around the sword

"Okay. There is no right way to say this..."

I stayed on the surface of my best friend's opening words just long enough to contemplate darting out of the ocean-front restaurant, jumping into the water and dying. But that would have been too easy, and I don't do easy things. Plus, I hate the sand. So instead, I stared into Laura's eyes as she continued on, bracing myself, hoping and praying she wouldn't say the thing...

"I love you and I can tell that you are miserable. I'm so sorry."

I've been here before - that sinking, paralyzing, infuriating stab to the gut when someone spells out our demons. It's the one that makes us feel seen, too seen. Found out. Held tighter than we're comfortable with. And even though it was said with such love, my body reacted the same way it does when I've heard things like:

 "No, actually, you're failing Pre-Algebra.",  "Your checking account balance is minus one hundred forty-five dollars" "I don't have feelings for you anymore", "We've offered the position to someone else..."

I sank into the padded chair, and I felt a nudge from deep in my bones that said, stay. It'll all be okay. Just listen...

I haven't known how to tell you, and I'm so sorry if this is hurtful. Even your breathing is different, I can hear the heaviness. I love you at ANY size, and yet I can see you're in a lot of pain in your body. I can see it in your eyes.
And I don't think you're in recovery from your eating disorder, I think you're in the thick of your eating disorder."

I could feel my face run white. My finger tips, numb. And my heart, already so heavy, heavier. I heard the planet crack, or maybe it was just my knuckles as I yanked them, looking for some relief while my spirit suddenly felt so small and my body felt so big, too big. And yet, I sat. And listened deeply. It doesn't take much for me to cry, so I went ahead and did that.

The thing is, when something, especially words, pierces the body, all of its resources rush to the wound like a pack of detectives. Blood and fat cells gather round, collecting information on mini notepads, asking things like, what do we got? How long has she been like this? Someone grab a blanket to keep her warm. It's like a committee - the committee dedicated to the healing and restoration of my body and my soul. Each of us as one, and sometimes is takes a friend to call them in from eating donuts in the 7-Eleven parking lot. (Thank you, Laura). 

So my friends and readers and students and someone who knows someone who knows someone who stumbled upon this blog, I am Erica Jacobs; a Yoga Teacher, Essential Oil Educator, Eating Psychology Counselor and freakishly funny woman, struggling with an eating disorder. I don't want to be alone in this, so as long as my publishing my recovery doesn't hinder my healing, I have chosen to share my journey on the interwebs.

I thank you for being a part of this committee who closes in tight to help set me free.

Grace and Peace,

Erica

The Yogi's Agreement

I HEARBY AGREE FROM THIS DAY FORWARD, to participate fully in my whole life. A requisite for showing up in such a way will require I take my Yoga practice on and off my mat. Therefore, I agree to be Yoga. This agreement fully binds me to earth for the duration of my stay, and beyond.

AS A YOGI, I AGREE TO BE AN ACTIVE LISTENER; as I am able to hear the voice of both my body and my Yoga teacher, I acknowledge they will sometimes send conflicting cues, and it will be up to me to decide which one feels and sounds right for my practice. Further, I understand I am allowed to ask questions and acquire suggestions and new information from my instructor, taking only what works for me, and leaving the rest.

I AGREE TO EXPERIENCE UNCERTAINTY AND DISAPPOINTMENT as a Yogi. My physical practice, my body and my life will change with the passage of time. I may become more or less mobile at times, I may be injured and need to modify my practice. Therefore, since my body is inexact and sensitive, I agree to cater to its unwavering desire to heal me and make me strong.

AS A YOGI, I MAY NEED A BREAK from the physical practice of Yoga. Sometimes I'll be away from my mat for a few days and those days may turn into weeks, into months, perhaps years. While this may be considered unproductive or detrimental to my health, I know, at its deepest level, Yoga honors my need to pause, however long I see fit.

IF I AM A WOMAN, I understand that my body and my soul are inherently connected to the energy around, above and below me. I acknowledge I have a special relationship with the moon. Therefore my mental, emotional, spiritual and physical practice will change from day to day. When I am on my cycle, I understand I may not be able to balance on one foot, or even balance one task. I also know it may not be best to take inversions, so as to allow gravity to pull energy where it needs to go.

IF I AM A YOGA TEACHER, I know about body language. I acknowledge that although I am doing the talking, my students are communicating back to me with their body. I can see their story. I will listen and respond to these stories with great curiosity and respect. As a Yoga Teacher, I understand music selection, sequence and theme are not the only reflections of who I am as a Yoga Teacher; these are only small components of what makes a Yoga experience. I recognize that should these class elements disappear, I am still able to teach, as Yoga is about union-- to unite with other people, through my voice and my spirit.

IF I AM A MAN, I recognize Yoga as a way to complement and enhance my masculinity. I understand that my practice, on many levels, sets an important example for generations to come. Further, when I show up to my mat, I see myself as a better person, a more present partner, a kinder friend, a more effective communicator. I understand the importance of making my presence known and my intentions clear, both on and off my mat. As a Yogi, I believe in the covenant of comradeship; so not only do I practice for myself, I humbly and proudly practice on behalf of my brothers, young and old.

AS A YOGI, I PRACTICE THE PRINCIPLES OF HEALTHY ATTACHMENT; I know what I need, I know how to ask for it and most importantly, I know how to receive it when it's given to me. If I enjoy human touch, I am allowed to ask my teacher to adjust, assist or massage me in class. I understand my request may not always be granted, but Yoga assures me of the power of asking for what I need.

EACH TIME I BRING MY PRACTICE ON AND OFF MY MAT, I am promising somewhere deep inside I will participate as my whole self. I am promising to build relationships rooted in kindness for myself and the world around me. I am acknowledging I am not perfect and neither is anyone else. I am willing to see the world in different ways. AND MOST IMPORTANTLY...I know what it means not only to do Yoga, but to be Yoga.

Grace, Peace and Rancid Yoga Pants,

Erica