our story

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our name

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training in bali

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growing as a teacher

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our story

Mishiah Yoga is a small yoga studio located in the Wilson Park neighborhood of Fayetteville, AR, owned by Mishiah Crute - recently relocated from Charlotte, NC. Mishiah is a skilled and intuitive private yoga instructor who leads small group classes, curates online fitness courses, and plans meditation and yoga retreats. 

Mishiah designs group, private, and meditation classes to encourage students to live consciously. Undigested trauma scars lead to unconscious living & create a disconnect to presence which allows fear to rule the mind.

 

Everyone has trauma scars that create energy blocks in the body. The conscious practice of yoga and meditation heal blocked energy lines. Mishiah Yoga offers guidance in asana yoga, visualization, progressive relaxation, somatic experiencing, and intention setting. These practices, promise to catalyze healing of the mind, body, and soul allowing students to lead a full and conscious life.

 
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our name

mish·i·ah ( mĭsh - ī - ə)

n.

1.  not a real word in any language

2. possible Scrabble draw  

3. a unique baby name

[origin : Imaginary]

yo·ga ( yō - gə)

n.

1. a course of physical and mental disciplines for attaining liberation from the material world and union of the self with the Supreme Being or ultimate principle 

2. "yoking, joining together" and by extension "harnessing of one's mental faculties to a purpose"

3. union of opposites; balance

[origin: Sanskrit]

 
 
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training in bali

In 2018 I was accepted to and attended an immersive 200-hour training in Bali, Indonesia, led by Meghan Currie. On the first day, she asked us to think about what sort of yoga teacher we would like to be. With zero hesitation, I wrote down "healing." 

 

One of my classmates liked to take early morning walks on the beach and, on the seventh day, returned to the group carrying two puppies. One of the puppies was about six weeks old - healthy, active, and he even howled with us as we chanted "om" to begin our 7 am practice. 

 

The second puppy was not so healthy. She may have been two weeks old and was lethargic, dehydrated, missing a few patches of hair, and generally looked like a black potato. Black potato though she was - I took one look at her and murmured a word we had just learned in philosophy class - Isvara. 

 

 I fed Isvara honey water and watched the other girls dote on her. One of the other women claimed the little spud and announced she would take the puppy (now named LouLou) back to Austria with her when our training ended. 

 

A few days went by. The baby was passed around in a box to be watched by whomever, and I actively restrained myself from interfering. While my classmate had the best intentions, she did not have plans to get the pup (sorely needed) medical attention. I've never had much of a talent for minding my own business, so on the eve of our first day off, I found myself offering to take the puppy to Canggu to see a vet. 

 

Admittedly, I knew that this would not be my only act of service for the pup. We saw the vet, and I watched LouLou start to feel better - running around on her little potato legs. We snuggled together in a Balinese villa, and the following day I was calling her by her name - Isvara. 

 

A few weeks later, Isvara (Isa) and I traveled back to the US together. She even rode with me in the cabin and had precisely zero accidents. Customs waved me through when we landed in LAX without even glancing at my (completely legit) puppy declaration.

 

I should note that I did not make any human friends during my 30 days of training. I did, however, heal a little life that needed me. 

 

This work comes naturally to me. I can connect with individuals where they are. I help them digest trauma through asana practice, meditation, and somatic experiencing. My teaching style expands presence, hones intention, and creates healthy flexibility. 

 

 I stay reading, continuing my education, expanding my knowledge, and studying my own human experience. As strange as it may sound - I heal through an intelligence I do not wholly understand. As an intuitive healer - sometimes, I just know things.

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growing in charlotte

Before I left for my training in Bali, I had this sort of pre- homesickness. It was this very odd sensation - a nostalgia for who I was in the weeks building up to my departure. I knew the trip would change me; there was no avoiding it. It wasn't that I felt thrilled with the person I was in the moment. My life was, in fact, pretty messy. I was drinking far too much, spending money like water, and taking time off from being an adult to some extent - I suspect. 

In the months before I decided to train in Bali, I had ended an engagement and quit my corporate job in lean manufacturing. I then proceeded to revive my inner party-girl for one last ride - stayed out too late, slept in, forgot to feed my cat, spent too much time on the internet, did some weekend binge traveling, bought all the dresses, and it all had me feeling like shit. However, as I packed for my trip, I cried for the girl - hot mess though she was - I was leaving behind. 

It takes courage to change your life. As bad as our circumstances may become, there is a human tendency to cling to sameness - confusing it with security. There is a saying - "Better the devil you know than the devil you don't," and there were parts of me who wanted to stay the same because I knew the bounds of pain within my current life. The fear of the unknown had me homesick for the comfort of the very uncomfortable life that I hadn't yet left. 

When I taught my midterm practicum in Baili, my teacher stopped me after less than a minute. Megahan had warned us in the week prior that she may stop us halfway through and give feedback but that we shouldn't take it as a bad sign - that whatever happens will be a way of teaching us what we need to know. Regardless, when she lifted her hand and waved me to a stop, my heart fell, and my throat swelled with failure. 

As I sat cross-legged in front of my teacher, she told me, gently - "You know what you are doing, but you need to step into your power." My eyes swelled with tears, and - on cue - a little fuzzy black potato waddled over to comfort me, and everyone laughed as I snuggled Isa and cried into her tiny, somewhat mangey, little coat. 

I don't remember being worried as I approached the customs desk at LAX, but I was prepared to answer questions about my souvenir. As it happened, the woman behind the desk waved me through without even glancing at my paperwork, and it felt a little surreal as I emerged into the light of day on a new coast. 

There had been no late planes, no big questions, no more paperwork - I intended to get a puppy out of Bali and into the US and had done it with surprising ease and clarity. My journey home, blessed as it was, now serves as evidence of my potent ability to create my reality by stepping into my power. 

It has been this knowing of power that has kept me on my journey as a yoga teacher. Three months after my return, I had proved to everyone I knew that I was not the same girl anymore. It was unfortunate - because a lot of them preferred the party-girl. Six months after my return, I barely checked my cell phone because I had cut ties with virtually everyone I had known. I returned to my habits. I meditated, created, practiced, and cared for my plants and animals.

 

While living in Charlotte in 2019, I withdrew from everything to hear myself. I was fiercely protective of my time, self-care, and soul. I was not the same girl I had been a year before, but I didn't mourn her. I cherish her for her clarity through the pain and her gall to take the first step for change. Also, I know I will see her again - someday, when I have to make a hard choice for change in the future, I will need her courage to burn it down and start over.