And it’s not how you think.
I was a brand new small business owner when the pandemic became a thing. My studio had been open just 9 months and things were going great! I finally felt like I had a home of like-minded, seekers in a supportive community. The students and teachers at Radiant Yoga were kind, caring and seeking to improve their physical, mental, emotional and spiritual health. It was everything I could have asked for and more. Many gifts that I was given in those first 9 months I didn’t even know that I needed.
When news of Covid-19 became mainstream, I watched with curiousity, then apprehension and finally with fear and horror. I watched our local and state leaders begin to make decisions that were at first shocking and then in hindsight probably too late. We have The Arnold in Columbus. A large gathering of health and fitness professionals and vendors that come from all over the world to compete. 10’s of thousands of people flock to our city to compete and watch. Within days of the start of the competition, our health leaders cancelled the spectator portion of the event. It was a shock and a risky move on their part. Millions of dollars were on the line and many billions would be lost before we knew it.
I had been studying yoga and ayurveda for a number of years before I opened Radiant and my driving force to open a space was to share the gifts that I had been given that supported and enhanced my life so much.
Many are drawn to yoga initially for the physical practice. I call the Vinyasa Yoga the “gateway drug” to yoga. It sucks you in as transformation can occur quickly. BUT movement or Asana is just one facet of yoga. There are so many others and those other parts of yoga are what saved my life over the past 16 months.
The first limb of Yoga is referred to as the Yamas or ethical practices of how we interact in and with the world. There are 5 Yamas and the first is Ahimsa This can be translated as “Non-violence or Non-harming.” Sounds simple enough right, but enter a global pandemic where your mere prescence can harm another and it gets tricky. Having a studio space where I am encouraging people to gather in a space and move and breath for an hour began to feel so wrong. By holding public class would I be participating in the harm or even death of one of my beloved community members? Would I be harming my teachers if I suddenly closed the business and they lost income? Would I be harming my family if I lost the business and financially ruined us? To say I didn’t sleep in the first days of the pandemic is an understatement. I woke up on a Thursday morning and had this intense calling to cancel all classes immediately until we knew what we were dealing with. The State of Ohio would cancel everything the following Monday. Little did I know I would remain closed to in-person offerings for 14 more months. I didn’t see that coming but I DID begin to sleep better knowing that my community would not be harmed in our beloved space.
Now what?
There was so much uncertainty (understatement of the century) in those days. Would we be closed for 6 weeks, 3 months, until the fall, until next year? Who knew? I certainly didn’t and that can be an extremely difficult place to land without a plan. I witnessed so many other small businesses and studios pivot (I hate that word) more times than any of us could count and it made my head spin. I was supported in my decision to close the studio early by our community but as time wore on, everyone wanted to return to some sense of ‘normalcy’ or routine. I still couldn’t wrap my head around opening the space even with the most stringent of protocols and so we remained closed to in-person only offering online classes.
Another Yama or ethical practice that I leaned heavily on during this time was Satya. Satya can be translated as “truthfulness or speaking the truth.” Who knew or continues to know what is true in relation to the pandemic. What I did know is that I DIDN’T know and I had to say that. “I don’t know when we will reopen.” “I don’t know IF we will reopen.” “I am scared.” “I am angry.” “I am jealous.” “I DONT KNOW” became my mantra and felt like the most truthful thing inside of me. Having a close circle of friends and family to lean on and speak my truth out loud was life-saving. No pretending that everything was ok or it would be over soon.
I had to let go of the dream of Radiant. We were still hobbling along but for how long? Livestreaming classes was a way to keep in contact with our community and keep the teachers employed but revenue dropped up to 90% some months. It was really shocking to do the books every month and think this was insane to keep going. I was almost a year away from the end of my lease and I began to plan for the closure of the studio.
One of the next Yamas is Aparigraha. Aparigraha can be translated as non-covetous or non-hoarding. I like to think of it as letting go of things that don’t belong to me. Holding on to Radiant with such a tight grip was exhausting and to what end? Was my grip on Radiant so tight that I couldn’t see clearly what the next steps should be? Should I release Radiant to someone better equipped to handle a small business during a pandemic? (I see you imposter syndrome.) Through support from the SBA, a disaster loan, a PPP grant and 2 grants from our local community, I was able to keep paying the rent, the teachers and the bills each month. I was still sitting in the unknown, letting go of future plans and loosening my grip on Radiant existing in the future, but each month we kept going and I was able to stall coming up with an exit plan. When I envisioned letting go of Radiant, my nervous system calmed down a notch. I didn’t have to keep it going if it wasn’t the right thing to do. Just the permission of thinking about letting it go saved my sanity.
Not to say that I didn’t grieve deeply for the potential loss of my dream.
This community was a dream come true. The students and teachers were beyond my wildest dreams. I could not have called in such a talented group of teachers who so wisely guided our students and kept them safe in their experiences. I could never have imagined the people who showed up when I hung a sign outside the door and posted a schedule on a website. They were kind, caring, open minded, loving beings who were seeking vitality, healing and intention in their lives. They shared their stories, their families, their grief and joy with me. We had created a family and community in our short time together and my heart was broken thinking it was over.
The next limb of Yoga is called the Niyamas and they are self disciplines or spiritual practices.
One of the Niyamas, Tapas is translated as heat or spiritual austerities. For me practicing Tapas has always felt like “sitting in the fire.” I could not run away from the pandemic or change the crushing circumstances of what it was doing to my dreams, my ability to see my family or friends or do anything that I wanted to do. I just had to be with myself and acknowledge the present moment. I had to listen to the stories that I was telling myself and call bullshit on alot that was going on in my head. I let go of people and practices in my life that were harmful, draining or simply not contributing to allow greater boundaries to emerge. I let go of people pleasing and tolerating one sided relationships. This burning away of the things that were holding me back allowed me to have the time and space for those in my life who mean the most.
The last practice I will share with you for now is Isvara pranidhana. Isvara pranidhana can be translated as surrender or surrender to God if God is in your spiritual practices. Surrendering to God or god or nature or spirit or the divine or the Goddess. There is no right way to surrender and the emphasis is on surrender and not the G. O. D. My surrender was complete. I didn’t know, I let go, I sat still and I trusted. I surrendered to having to know what to do next. I took care of my family, my partner and my needs. I took one day at a time, one step at a time and surrendered beyond that. I did the things that I knew how to do and I didn’t try to re-invent myself or my business again and again. I stepped out of the busy-ness of the business. Surrendering does not imply that you stop doing the things that you can do, it implies that you surrender to the outcome. Surrender allowed me to have acceptance, to be teachable, to relax my expectations and to renew my sense of adventure.
Notice that throughout this sharing, I don’t once mention movement or Asana yet. Asana is only one limb of the path of yoga and my Asana practice looked like laying on the floor covered up with a blanket. Sometimes laying on the floor with a blanket with my legs up the wall if I was feeling motivated. I did not spend the pandemic perfecting my postures. I did not gain the ability to do full wheel nor stand on my head. My body called for deep rest and that is what I offered it. I did not set expectations on my practice to look any certain way but what I felt in the moment. My movement practices became chasing my 2 year daughter around the playground and going down the slide with her. Or going on long walks with my grand-sons in the woods and by the creeks. I did not place shame on how my body changed during the pandemic or how my practice looks today.
I survived. We survived. Our community and our studio survived. I hope we don’t forget the lessons that were learned during this past 16 months. I hope we treat each other with care, support and hold space for one another. I hope we honor and remember those that we lost and I hope we look at the importance of who we spend time with, build communities with and where we spend our money. I don’t want things to return to the way they were before. I want to spend my remaining years with intention, love, compassion, care and an open heart and I hope this for you too.
With Love and Radiance
Aimee