Lessons from the Round House

I am sitting In the round house building at the university, we are in the center for gender diversity; Bella is doing a shift of volunteering with PAWWS. Essentially we come and let the students love on her. Some of them full out snuggle her, some of them are happy just to pat her on the head. Some of them laugh at her and take selfies and others get emotional and blink tears away.

What does this have to do with anything? Well, I have been feeling sorry for myself lately, and some of it is honestly justified; the studio is faltering. I didn’t want to come today. I didn’t want to keep our appointment. I myself was feeling so low that couldn’t possibly imagine helping anyone else feel better about what they have going on.

But I managed to get myself out of the house, I managed to honour my commitment and come to the school. And honestly I am so grateful that I did. The kids (well young adults) are so thankful to be able to come and get Bella love, and Bella is so happy to give it.

What I have been thinking about though, for the last hour (besides the studio), is that this room is a safe place for these humans. In a school full of thousands of people. There is a cozy little room, full of all things equality, pride and love. The kids in this room are as diverse as they come and then there is me.

I am a middle aged, white passing, privileged, cis gendered, heterosexual female. I live in the coziest of houses, I am lucky enough to have three wonderful kids to love and love me back. My husband runs a successful business, we have two vehicles and a holiday trailer. Our home has clean, warm running water, heat and AC. We are able to afford the medications we need and the food in our fridge. Currently I am wearing Ugg boots, LuLu pants and carrying a Fossil bag. Nobody questions my place in the world. Nobody considers me less than because of how I choose to present myself. I don’t need a special place to belong, because I belong almost anywhere (except for my size and being female). But, in this room, I am the one who stands out.

For the last while, I have been thinking about nothing but my business and how broken hearted that I am that things are not going well. And yes, it is sad, yes I am devastated, however I had the opportunity to follow my dreams, it was a possibility for me. There are people in this world that just want to exist as they are and live without hate and prejudice. They aren’t asking for what I have, they are just hoping for the bare minimum of human rights. It kindof puts things into perspective. These kids are in school to become accountants, teachers, librarians, social workers and artists; and when they leave school they will not only have to fight the economy but also prejudice to find work. They are going to have to fight twice as hard as their peers.

I at 44 years old was able to take my dreams of having a yoga studio and turn it into reality, AND I still am. I’m not closing the studio, rather, I am choosing another way. I am making the decision to change my business model, I haven’t been forced to close. And even if in the event, I do have to close, I have all of the privilege and resources available for me to make that change. And let’s say that I chose to work for a different company, chances are I would be hired (well, my hand and neck tattoos may prove a challenge). But the point is, is that people wouldn’t not hire me because of my race, gender, identity, preferences, or socioeconomic status.

So, as I sit here and listen to these amazing humans talk to each other about regular life and as they sit and love on my dog, I feel silly for the wallowing that I have been doing. I own a yoga studio, a studio that people love. And maybe the way I was doing it didn’t work out but I am resilient and with the support of my family, friends, staff and clients I am going to try again. These kids taught me a lesson today, and I just pulled my head out of my a$$.