All Vibes Welcome by Lexie Wolf
"For Halloween I’m gonna be emotionally stable. No one’s gonna know it's me." – Andrea Gibson
Yoga teaches that bliss is our natural state—a kind of essential Self that lives beneath all the layers of personality and human experience. I don’t know about you, but my layers can be heavy. At times they are winter in New Hampshire layers—not that light one you bring along in summer just in case the air conditioning is blasting.
In this embodied life, we tend to live in the layers a lot—how could we not? This is where grief, joy, excitement, boredom, anxiety, longing, and doubt all show up in our very own cocktail of the day. Working with and peeling back those layers is a continuous practice for me. They come and they go. I’m in touch with the sublime sweetness, the unity, the interconnection of all things… and then I’m not. And then I am. I remember, I forget.
Have you seen the seed of a Sweetgum tree? Sometimes I put one on my altar. I identify with it. It’s spiny and prickly on the outside. When I’m deep in hard emotions, that’s how I feel. For me, that outer layer often feels like shame. Not just about what I’m feeling—but about the fact that I’m feeling it at all. Aren’t I one of the most fortunate of human beings, living this amazing life on this miraculous planet? I could have been born into poverty, in a war zone, in 1346, and gotten Bubonic plague…blah, blah blah. Picture the emoji with its head blasting off, and that’s me in this space. Inside a Sweetgum seed. That image is making me laugh.
Aaaannnd the only way out is through (thank you Robert Frost). Not around, not above. Not avoid, not escape, not deny. Through gently. Hug the prickly outer shell. Love it. It dissolves when I love it. Then others can, too.
One of the things I appreciate most about our studio family is that we make room for all of it. I see people show up with their whole selves, not just the polished parts. We don’t pretend hard things aren’t happening. There’s an unspoken agreement among us: Let’s be honest here. Let’s be whole. Let’s be real. I appreciate it when I ask someone how they are and they tell me.
I recently heard a workshop facilitator say that creating a truly “safe space” might not be possible—because life is unpredictable, and people are complex. Safety can’t always be guaranteed. And maybe that’s okay. What we can offer is a supported space. A place where, when hard things come up, no one has to face them alone.
That’s what I want us to keep creating—a space where you can bring your joy, your grief, your weird mood, your overdue feelings, your prickly parts—and we’ll still save you a spot on the mat.
