I clip in.
The world and my phone are locked away, outside. The door closes and the light changes. My eyes take a minute to adjust to the darkness. I see four candles burning. They seem to burn brighter now that the room is darker. I hear her voice come into my body and penetrate my soul. I turn my knob all the way to the left, taking off any resistance the world has left on me as I entered, and then I slowly add two deliberate turns to the right. And then the music starts...
"Divine sorrow. Thank you for the joy that follow..."
Wyclef Jean's sultry voice smooths out any edges I'm still holding on to. His masculinity oozes in through my pores, begins flowing through my veins, and finds itself implanted deep in one of my viceral chakras. I fully engage. It is from that place of deep down that I dig to find all of my energy. This workout will help me locate it, and from somewhere between my solar plexus and my root, it will radiate long after I've left this room.
The first four or five sessions of SoulCycle, I just thought it was about getting a good workout...a great alternative to boring cardio. Novelty sport while we're living in DC and have access to fun stuff. Somewhere along the fifth time I'd done it, I realized that I was getting up at 5:30am on my day off to drive into the city when my regular gym is only five minutes away. I'd succumbed to a gateway drug. I was craving my next dose of high endorphins and breakthrough. As tears and sweat mixed together fall from my face onto the floor where they belong, I realize that somehow the heat generated with such powerful, intentional movement along with the collective soul in the room is exactly what I need...for the way we do one thing is the way we do all things. The staircase doesn't change, only what we put at the top of it.
I climb.
Everything is intentional. I paid for the series. I signed up for the class. I chose the date, time, location, and instructor. I picked the bike. I set my alarm. I left early. I filled my water bottle and drove into the city, found and paid for parking. It is not an inexpensive experience, and it teaches me that I don't appreciate things unless I earn them. They must cost me something. I must earn them...I must earn them. I must EARN them. For, then they are mine and mine alone. I'm the one who puts the turns on my wheel. They are intentional. Me. Mine.
The depression weight that I gained with a year of chocolate, red wine, and sleep drips off my body in the heated room, and I know both my body and my spirit will feel lighter when I leave. For, along with the weight is the feeling of loss that rises up and chokes me with its last breaking breath before it leaves my body...the emotion that I carried with the cost of sorrow; the price I paid for trying to save someone who didn't want to be saved. They are all incinerated in the torch. As the intensity increases, I feel my soul wearing thin until it is nothing but a translucent membrane that barely holds me in. It is permeable, the light enters. The words enter. The music enters. I am completely vulnerable, wide open, ready to receive. She speaks wisdom into me, she speaks strength and power and truth..."Energy is neither created nor destroyed. The hill is not going to climb itself. Nobody is waiting around to give you your best life, You've got to claim it. We cannot inhale and exhale at the same time. To give from your saucer, your cup must first be overflowing. Pain is holy, it was bought at the price of love. We choose what we choose, and then own it."
Two more turns to the right.
In this room, I am. I am what the words painted on the wall say I am, and I believe them. I am an athlete. I am legend. I am a warrior. I am renegade. I am the torch that lights all of the fires that need to be lit. I am presence. I am truth. I am light. I am love. Every answer that I need is found when I enter the room and take my wheel two turns from zero. Every answer emerges when I engage, when I let the music flow through me, when I am broke wide open and ready to receive the truth that is spoken into me. This is the way it's meant to be done, by closing the door to the distraction and clipping in to what is mine...for not praying for the climb to get easier, but turning up the intensity and showing myself what I am really capable of. This isn't just a workout, this is the blueprint for life. This is how we mother our children. This is how we wife our husbands. This is how we work for our clients. This is how we engage with every soul that comes into our presence. This is how we love ourselves. It isn't about what we've achieved when we get to the top of the staircase, it's about who we become in order to get there. Refiner's fire...Yes you can. Yes you can. Yes you can.
Two more turns.
Everything I need for the climb already exists within me. Stored energy is ignited. I will leave the room changed. The torch deep down inside of me is lit, I will carry it out to light the world.
Divine sorrow...thank you for the joy that follow.