Who is Rising on the Horizon? by Mackenzie

Who is Rising on the Horizon? by Mackenzie - December 2016 Scholarship Essay

Atop Colorado’s ancient, arid Red Rocks, I stand in vriksha-asana emulating a tree. My right leg is the sturdy trunk of my tree, rooting itself through my right foot. My left leg, a bent limb, presses firmly into my inner right thigh, while my hands find equilibrium in prayer; counteracting one another’s force. I squeeze my abdominal muscles yet maintain the rhythm of my breath. Inhale, two, three, four. My eyes focus on the blinding drishti—a stabilizing point in the distance—of the rays of an awakening sun beyond the mountainous backdrop. Exhale, two, three, four.
Interrupting the intensity of my focus, Heather guides the crowd of exotically patterned pants and bundled up hair-dos: “Feel the solidity of the earth beneath you, and notice the muscles in your toes as they work to grip the surface, steadying you.”
Though the rocks beneath me are foreign, I have a strong grip in my toes evolved from my enduring soccer career; the very sport that taught me balance. When I began soccer in the fourth grade, my world became divided between school and sports. I quickly realized that balancing my life required a fixed gaze, a focused attention to both sport and school; a drishti for life. Callus by callus and book by book, I discovered equilibrium, creating a base for my future success.
“Engage your core,” Heather announces over the symphony of ujjayi, audible breaths.
When I was nine, my mother received a phone call from the doctor with the dreadful news that I was diagnosed with Celiac Disease. Before the infamous gluten-free fad, I was forced to avoid all foods with wheat. However, through my parents’ unwavering support, they embedded a confidence within me that has enhanced my ability to adjust and remain steady regardless of the obstacle. In consciously strengthening my family relationships, I have the stability to balance the chaos of both the mind and body while standing 6,400 feet above my comfort zone, performing Yoga on the Rocks.
Rooted in tree pose, I hear Heather’s gentle voice challenge me, “Using the flow of your breath, begin to move into Virabhadrasana III, Warrior Three.” A wash of self-doubt allows hesitation to engulf my muscles, until I notice the unfaltering motivation of my fellow yogis. Ignoring their quivering muscles, they hinge forward, inspiring me to do the same.
Determination is the enemy of doubt; in yoga and far beyond. The strength of my determination stems from a severe concussion I suffered last year. After waking on the turf in a plume of pellets, writhing in agony, it was clear that I faced a long recovery journey. I went from juggling school, family, work, sports, and clubs to living in forced hibernation. Not only did I lose the abilities to read and exercise, I lost my ability to balance. Frustrated, I worked for six months to rebuild my mental deftness. Through my relentless efforts to overcome each challenge, I discovered a newfound drive, which, like Warrior Three, propels me forward with a greater sense of self-awareness.
Determined, I ignore doubt by moving with Heather’s voice, “Trust your center of gravity. You are the artist and your body is the canvas. As you inhale hinge forward. Extend your left leg backwards towards the setting moon.”
My chest, parallel to the ground, fills with fresh air, and I take a moment to envision the warrior I want to be. As I exhale, my arms reach forward towards the sunrise, elongating the line from my left toes. The board of my body grounds through the stability of my right leg. At this moment, I am an athlete, a student, a daughter, and an artist all at once.
Yoga challenges the capabilities of both the mind and body, and through this passion, I continue to discover me.