Nowhere to go.

Nothing to do.

No one to be.

I say this at the end of every yoga class, right before I allow students several minutes of silence in Shavasana, our final resting pose. Shavasana is often called the most important pose of a yoga practice, the pose we do every single time, and the pose we do not skip. After completing a practice, bending and balancing our body through poses, it would be weird to just clap our hands together at the end, roll up our mat, and walk out of the room. 

Shavasana lends our body time to rest, our cells time to integrate, and our mind time to dissolve and absorb all efforts from our practice, before we catapult back into our day. 

Now with the country shut down, schools and businesses closed, and orders to stay at home in effect, these words strike eerily close to home, and they slap at my heart center like a bad dream come true. In Shavasana, I welcome the comfort of doing nothing, of going nowhere, and of being no one. I savor the opportunity to rest because I know within minutes I will be back to my daily life and tasks. Today, the words feel ominous and foreboding. Today, the words feel too real, and too drawn out.

What is this endless Shavasana? And what is it here to teach us?

Despite the minimal physical effort it takes to lay flat on my mat, eyes closed, body unmoving, Shavasana has never been an easy pose for me. I squirm and I fidget. I anticipate when we will be allowed to come out. My body is not used to laying still. My mind is not used to being languid and undramatic. 

Forcing myself to stay in Shavasana requires a letting go of my conditioned need to do something, to go somewhere, and to be someone. 

I offer this phrase to my students because it is a reminder that there is never actually anything to do, anywhere to go, or anyone to be. 

The roles, labels, and lifestyles we chase appease our ego mind, but also lure us away from what is real. 

What would happen if you let go of the need to be someone? Who would you be? What would happen if you let go of the need to go somewhere, to run to something, to escape, to numb, or to hide? 

Maybe nothing would happen. The only thing that has ever happened to me while in Shavasana is at the least, I experience a moment of relaxing silence. And at the most, a soft voice emerges, and whispers a phrase of insight or clarity into my otherwise distracted, unlistening mind. 

When we allow ourself to exist free from labels, roles, tasks, and agendas, we allow the true parts of ourself to surface. We allow our body rest because it does so much for us. We allow our mind a break because usually all it ever does is criticize. In a moment of pause, and surrender, we let go of our need to be anyone - other than exactly who we are. 

It is a challenge right now not to go, not to do, and not to be. But you are still YOU. All the parts and pieces of you that truly matter are all still there. You still exist. You still hold purpose, simply by the fact that you are alive. Maybe this entire exercise in staying home can be held in sacred space like Shavasana. The world will go back to normal. You will be required to work, manage, schedule, and run again. During this quiet time, let your body rest, and let your soul rise to the surface of your being. Nowhere to go, nothing to do, and no one to be.