Life is the practice room
Remembering YogaWorks Walnut Creek
In 2009, I ended a seven-year relationship, moved back to Walnut Creek, and joined the hottest yoga studio in town—YogaWorks.
Built brand new, YogaWorks was nestled in the heart of downtown Walnut Creek, a block from Broadway Plaza on the second floor of the corner open parking garage across from Ross Dress for Less, where the historic Simon Home Center and City of Shoes once survived.
The studio was spacious and stylish, with a San Francisco cityesque vibe, wrapped in great glass-paned windows donating generous light to the reception area and practice rooms.
Bolsters, blocks, blankets, and straps crowded the cabinet walls. Jade, Manduka, and Gaiam yoga mats spread out in a patchwork of paint on the bamboo flooring, sewing individual fabric pieces into a collective design, fashioning a unique and unified piece of art.
It was the perfect combination of comfort at home and the convenience of your local yoga studio, with stunning amenities and a spectacular view of Mount Diablo.
YogaWorks was a lungful of renewed air—a place where everyone knew your name, a place to pause, connect, and exhale.
It had everything you needed at your fingertips and more—budding friendships, a smile, movement, casual conversation in the corridor, mindfulness, breakthroughs, a chic boutique, and hugs.
Tears of sweat, sorrow, and laughter pulsated in the halls. Hearts beat to the drum within the walls of the practice rooms as bodies rolled, rejoiced, and rose to the feel of the tune and the teacher's tone and rested in the quiet stillness of breath.
I practiced with some of the best teachers and flowed alongside incredible students. I met amazing people and created soul-full connections—relationships I continue to carry with me and nurturing friendships that remain and flourish.
It laid the groundwork for a lifelong devoted yogini, igniting the flames of fascination to understand who I am on the deepest level and my hunger for knowledge.
It was where I learned to make mates with my angst by building a bond with my breath. I learned to safely embrace discomfort and vulnerability, open my guarded heart, release stress and tension, lengthen my capacity, strengthen my body, foster flexibility, and flip my perspective upside down.
As I spread and stretched, so did my intention and craving for practice and asana, morphing into something expansive and profound, something I never imagined.
Starting with a wish for weight loss and a solution for anxiety and sleep, from level 2-3 Vinyasa flow, heat, sweat, and moody music to moving methodically with my breath and uncovering my longing for slowness through Viniyoga and my will to be with the once sharp silence and stillness to now a softness and coming home to my body, breath, and mind with more awareness, balance, and grace.
I became a certified Yoga teacher and studied how alignment and sequence translate into a swell of stability and a current of calm. There, I found my courage to stand up in front of others, co-create, and be playful with my voice, laying the material for my aspiration to be of service.
It was where my eagerness and dedication to Philosophy Fridays (now Wisdom Wednesdays on Zoom) held with my teacher, Mynx, blossomed, learning to practically apply the tradition of Yoga, wake up from an automatic to a conscious way of living, paving the path to becoming a more skilled being navigating this human experience.
What has become a decade-long, steady, and strong Sangha continues to walk alongside me on this unique and universal path.
YogaWorks was a place that steadily held me accountable for showing up to my practice, body, breath, and inner evolution, becoming a lighthouse on my darkest days. To a place where doubt no longer grips firm footing and trust in the unknown is the faith I can learn to rely on.
In 2020, YogaWorks closed its doors. Like many, during the first few months of the pandemic, I hoped it would reopen and we would return.
I walked into the studio one woman and walked out another.
I am forever fond of and grateful for the memories and teachings. The threads of connection and community continue to ripple and weave seamlessly into my life.
It was the foundation for imagining a life separate from my thoughts and the place that reunited me with the Self who embodies the wisdom of practice, unlocking the clarity and confidence of a natural leader and ever-evolving curious student.
With every ending, there is a beginning. What I thought I would never appreciate; I now adore practicing asana and meditation in the intimacy of my home.
The tools, wisdom, aspirations, and practices I acquired and continue to learn act as life rafts in the sea of constant change and uncertainty and clear the lens through which I see life.
It is my connection to the one within and the universal oneness within us all. It is how I learned to be generous and compassionate to my suffering and that of another. It continues to impress and expand my limits in witnessing life's exquisite beauty, miracles, and emotional richness.
The teachings of Yoga are a blessing, and finding the tradition and a teacher who can carry on the custom of this precious path is a gift.
My loyalty to my teacher and the tradition of Yoga has a deep and lasting impression. It endures and supports many irritations of self in ways never predicted, forever in honor of and appreciative to.
Though our once-beloved studio is gone, we are never without practice. As my teacher Mynx says, "Life is the practice room."
Writing Prompts and Reflection
I am curious to hear from you. Is there a person, place, or thing, past or present, where you experience a sense of community and connection? Has a sport, practice, teacher, or mentor supported a greater self-understanding? What relationships do you carry with you?
Jump-off lines to ignite your writing:
Igniting the flames of fascination
As I spread and stretched
Life is the practice room
Grab a pen and paper or your favorite journal. Begin with one or more of the prompts. Use them as a starting point, repeat them throughout your writing.
Set your timer. Write for 15 minutes, pen never leaving the page.
1:1 Coaching Offering
Are you curious about tools and self-care practices that can act as a life raft in transition, change, and uncertainty? Do you desire more clarity, stability, and ease?
I work 1:1 with clients to help uncover the places that keep us stuck and confused and develop a deeper sense of trust, meaning, and purpose. Together, we co-create a safe space to learn to be with discomfort and vulnerability, release stress and tension, develop skills, and expand capacity.
Learn to empower yourself, stay accountable to your aspirations, discover what you already know, and stay true to yourself.
oh,I remember the studio in which I found myself through practice and began the journey to become a teacher, too.
Blue Lotus closed in the early 2012 for non-pandemic related reasons. I taught one of the last classes, on the last day before we locked the door for the last time. During savasana I read the last passage from The Velveteen Rabbit. You know the one, about becoming real.
That’s what the practice of yoga taught to me ~ the journey of embodiment to become myself.
Hi Dina,
Such a wonderful stroll down memory lane.
Some of the first Yoga classes I taught were at Walnut Creek Yogaworks; it was a playground, a laboratory, where I learned so many important lessons about what it means to practice 'off the mat.'
I remember one conversation with Mynx specifically....
I'd emailed her about an issue I was having in one of my classes, and rather than email me back she found me at the studio for a quick in-person follow up. The previous week a student had come to my class and was 'doing their own thing'. I had very little experience with this at the time. The student seemed to be ignoring me full stop: doing wild arm balances when the class was in Warrior II, deep backbends while I was teaching Mountain Pose. It felt like a grave injustice. As that class progressed I moved from frustrated to annoyed to angered. By the time class ended, my blood was boiling. I immediately sent Mynx an email about the student's abhorrent behavior. I expected Mynx to commiserate with me, to offer me some trick for keeping misbehaving students out of my class for good. Instead, she found me at the studio a few days later and pulled me aside. She looked me in the eyes with the steadiness of a redwood tree and said, " Hum. Sounds like you're really frustrated with this student, Erin. I wonder what would happen if you allowed yourself to be interested in their experience instead of judgmental of their behavior."
Zing.
Lesson learned.
'Be interested instead of judgmental' has become a kind of home base in my mind, a perspective that invites me to see not only all of life as a practice, but to see it as an opportunity for greater, deeper understanding as well. It reminds me that intrigue and compassion are practices, conscious choices, gifts that are offered rather than reactions that first must be earned.
Practice of any kind is rarely easy, but then, practice isn't about finding the easy way, is it? I learn and relearn and relearn, again and again, that practice is a process for finding truth, and that finding truth is a lot like finding diamonds: it requires hard digging, a ton of elbow grease, and a lifetime of polishing to make it shine, shine, shine.
I enjoyed reading your pieces, thinking, reflecting, and writing back to you this morning. Thanks for the inspiration, and for getting me to lay some words down. I raise my coffee to you, friend. Happy Spring. Have a great day!
Love,
Erin