What do you do when it feels so dark?

The last two weeks, I was in Bali, deepening my Kundalini yoga practice. There was something so enchanting about practicing to a view and sounds of verdant nature and witnessing the skies lighting up from pre-dawn hours.

I could wax lyrical about the incredible grace I experienced.

The truth is, I was also tending to the shadows that unceremonially surfaced from crevices tucked away from plain sight.

To say the least, January was a month of finding my feet after the end of a monumental year that just passed. Soulful questions led to uncomfortable, heartfelt answers.

I shed tears I never thought I had. I slept too much. My heart felt tender and raw. I was struggling to keep my head above stormy waters.

In the end, what saw me through the dark seas was yoga. A hell lot of Kundalini yoga.

During those weeks where I felt absolutely shattered, I poured myself into kriyas, or a themed set of exercises, to unearth and release pent-up emotions buried so deep within. I dug deep to strengthen and ground my entire being.

The Kundalini yoga technology of simultaneously using asana, pranayama, mantra and mudra to direct prana to where it should go very swiftly centered and empowered me.

I could neither rush time nor my healing, but the yoga practice that both fortifies and nourishes me, and fills my belly with fire, allows me to see the silver lining in the gray clouds.

The sense of renewal was so palpable I showed up for my mat, and ultimately for myself, despite the aches that were gnawing away at every part of me.

My dedicated [Kundalini] yoga practice gave me concrete tools to sit with the disquiet, to make peace with uncertainties.

If change is the only constant, then embracing the unknown is other surety.

In that vastness, I trusted that all that didn’t serve my highest good was being shown out of my life.

As I pick up the fragments and reshape the new me, I am aware hailstones and debilitating storms are mere reflections of the seasons and cycles of life.

Buds will always blossom and bloom again.

How we navigate wintry weather to welcome spring makes all the difference.

It’s not about discipline

 

Doing sadhana doesn’t make challenges disappear, it helps us to clarify, refine, and build the strength of the nervous system to welcome the challenges and see them as supportive aids in our heath, happiness and prosperity. – Simrit Kaur

I am just a week away from Kundalini Yoga Teacher Training. Truth be told, I never dreamt of investing this deeply in a practice that has completely transformed a world that went from nailing a healthy alignment on the mat to a state of samadhi.

I have sought that sense of oneness with the universe, that profound connection with the Divine all my life.

When I rediscovered yoga six years ago, my dedicated daily practice on the mat brought me to places I didn’t envision: I took the plunge and became a social entrepreneur, never mind as a travel and wellness writer, I only knew how to wield a pen.

It was a lifelong dream to empower less privileged communities in the region I live in.

Then a business trip to Cambodia more than changed my life.

After my first Kundalini yoga class, something shifted in me. My depleted soul, beaten by running the business singlehandedly, felt simultaneously empowered and nourished.

I returned to Singapore, found my tribe and began planting seeds for soulful living.

Before the rest of the family wakes and demands my attention, I make time for me.

At that hour, my soft chants illuminate a space permeated by piercing silence and a still-dark sky.

At that hour, my sub-conscious surfaces so I can observe them.

At that hour, my practice travels deeper.

My daily time on the mat is non-negotiable.

I fill myself up so my cup is brimming with life. Then I am ready to give and gift.

How do I bring myself to the mat every damn day? I get this question a lot.

A glass of wine or a body massage is only skin deep. When retail therapy is done and buyer’s remorse sets in, it is back to the same emptiness that comes and goes like the wretched restless wind.

When I take time to love and worship my mind, body and spirit that’s really a temple, it reciprocates abundantly with a joy that does not fizzle out like a champagne gone flat. Strength and faith are borne out of clarity.

Living with my eyes and heart wide open allow me to ride the crest and trough of life fully present.

It’s not about discipline.

It’s about owning your journey.

It’s about being radiantly alive.