by Lisa Cosmillo, Zuna Yoga 300 hour Bali Yoga Teacher Training student

Tomorrow I begin the first leg of a journey I have been dreaming about for about 5 years. I never thought this would really happen, and frankly, it all still seems pretty surreal. 
It all began when I read Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. I was moved by her adventures to Italy and her Yoga in India, but it was her descriptions of Bali that pulled me in. I knew as I read those pages, that someday, I would make this trip. However, I never could have foreseen the circuitous route my life would take to get me to this point.

First I had to become addicted to my Yoga practice. For a year, I woke each morning, walked my dogs, sat in meditation, practiced asana. This lovely practice would eventually lead me to join with one of my real estate clients to open my own Yoga studio, cafe, juice bar, and retail shop. The client disappeared, and it was just me. For almost two years, I worked full-time running my real estate business, my studio, shop and cafe and teaching Yoga. Along the way, I had acquired my 200-hour teacher training. 
My business was beautiful. People came, ate, practiced, communed. However, it never quite made enough income to allow me to quit being a real estate broker. So after almost two years, I had no choice but to close down. I was exhausted and had put my income, heart and soul into this endeavor. I spent a month or two in shock, then finally, I realized that out of the ashes, I had gained my teacher certification, my students, my practice... the silver lining of a difficult loss. And I wanted more.
So I began researching advanced trainings.... and very quickly, the Zuna Yoga training in Bali rose to the top...I remembered my passion for the descriptions, the colors, the smells of Bali. My friends encouraged me, my partner cheered me on, my kids weren't happy that I was going without them, but supported me nevertheless. I sent out feelers, made reservations, sent money.... it started getting real. 
Then out of nowhere, about 3 weeks ago, I got very, very sick with the flu. All my time spent getting strong felt like it was slipping away. And then two weeks ago, I get a call -- my little brother's wife had died unexpectedly - a young woman seemingly taken before her time. I pulled my sick body out of bed, got on an airplane and went to Kansas to do what I could to help my brother and his three kids. I told him I would stay if he needed me -- cancel my trip to Bali. But he wouldn't hear of it, my sweet brother told me to go and live my dream.

So here I am, and it's TOMORROW. I board a plane for a part of the world to which I've never been and prepare to jump into 10 or more hours of daily training. I am a bit scared, a lot excited and most of all -- open to whatever each moment holds determined to live and breathe through each new adventure.

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