“I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” Maya Angelou
I write this post after having given one of the most difficult yoga classes to date. Our practice was dedicated to a fellow yogi, who practiced here twice a week for the last two years, and left an undeniable impression on all our hearts. Sadly, and shockingly, she passed away this week, far too young.
Her impact on our community here was so great, that today’s practice without her, seemed like it might be impossible to get through.
We cried when people first came in. We had a huge group hug at the end. Her soul was with us throughout the entire class.
Over the last few years, she did not miss an opportunity to bring a card of thanks or holiday/birthday wishes. She brought me books to read that she “thought I’d enjoy.” She was our resident baker, bringing homemade (healthy) cakes and cookies to celebrate any occasion. A birthday? Homemade muffins. Last class of the session? Homemade banana bread. Any occasion that could be celebrated, was, thanks to her.
Oh, and she looooved Barney. Looooved him. ♥
A friend once told me: be happy that you knew that kind of person, whose loss could make you feel so sad, so empty, so lost. It means you were lucky enough to know that kind of caring and affection. Separately, my father told me many times: life is for the living. And so, with gratitude to yoga for having brought her into my life, I practice what is very difficult today.
Being happy that I knew her, shared space with her, witnessed her huge smile during her reverse warriors (her fave pose), shared books and sweet treats with her, AND at the same time, accepting what I don’t want to accept. That we’ll never get to have her practice with us again. Physically I know she won’t be here. However her spirit, her smile, her warm eyes, her giving heart, those will always be here. On the mat closest to the window, front row.
No one said this practice was easy. And certainly, it has nothing to do with the poses. Today more than ever, we worked to stay in the moment, and we smiled as much as we could, in her honour.
I can only imagine how her family must feel, if we, who knew her as a fellow yogi, feel such a huge loss. Our thoughts and our hearts are with her friends and loved ones today.