25 Classes

Sunstone Yoga gives wristbands for achievement. (10 & 25 classes)

25 classes. It might not seem like much, but that's 25 hours of hot yoga. It is just the beginning, really.

But this beginning is profound.

Some days are still hard. Really hard. Usually that happens when I am low on resources—dehydrated, too hungry, not enough sleep. And sometimes, it’s just random.

But I get through every single class, and that still feels like an accomplishment, although I must admit that the time goes by so fast, it blows me away.

And at the end of that hour, I am exhausted, sweaty, stinky, and serene. Not a terrible combination, if you ask me…

So, what has changed? What has shifted in me?

I’m up to going to classes at least 4-5 times a week. It was remarkably easy to get there, even though I was really skeptical at first. I haven’t posted to Facebook for accountability because I actually haven’t needed it.

I am solely accountable to myself.

Holy shit!

This might just be the first endeavor in my entire life where I haven’t needed to be accountable to anyone but me. That’s huge! And I didn’t actually realize it until just now, as it hit me that I’d stopped posting yoga updates to Facebook.

Wow.

As far as other changes, there are the outwardly obvious things—my posture has vastly improved. My skin looks amazing and glowy and happy. My clothes are all fitting looser because I have lost inches. And over the past 5 weeks, even though I’m not actively trying to lose weight (because on yoga days I tend to eat like a horse, or so it feels like, and I love to eat, and I eat whatever I want so long as it’s got ingredients I can pronounce and identify and feel good about eating)… I have indeed lost 5 pounds. And of course, I am more flexible, I’m getting stronger, and my balance is better (most days).

And it’s really cool when I can hold poses longer than I used to, or better, or both. It’s fascinating to see and feel my own progression and growth and change. I am enjoying this process very, very much.

But the real, soul-deep benefits are much harder to articulate.

I’ve noticed that I’m making yoga a priority, no matter what. It’s not so much the yoga as it is making taking care of me the real priority.

I’ll give you an example.

This past Monday, I knew I was going to go to my dad’s house in the evening. I normally try to catch the 8pm class on Mondays, but after 9pm would be way too late to head up to my dad’s house.

Instead of skipping class, I got up an hour earlier, went in to work earlier, left work earlier, and caught the 5pm class instead. I was done by 6pm and on my way up to my dad’s not too long after that.

In other words, I rearranged my entire day to make sure I could still get to yoga but also get to my dad’s. I fulfilled both priorities and felt great about it.

The more profound piece of that, though, is that missing my yoga wasn’t even an option that came to mind.

Which means that I have turned it into a habit to take care of me and prioritize my own health and well-being. It’s not even an option anymore for me to be sedentary, because that is so far from what I want that it doesn’t even enter my mind anymore.

Even now, that realization brings tears to my eyes.

As I anticipated, hot yoga is changing my life. I feel calmer and more in control during the day. I am sleeping harder and better. I’m not waking up at random times of the night anymore. I am able to fall asleep immediately once I’m in bed—and that is a gift, considering falling asleep fast (or sometimes at all) eluded me after my mom’s death.

Oh yeah!

There's one other thing. A really big thing, too.

I’ve stopped drinking coffee.

Yes. You read that right… this life-long coffee lover (coffee obsessor, more like) has actually stopped drinking coffee altogether.

Before—I drank about 20 ounces of coffee.

That’s a lot of caffeine, y’all.

So now it’s one or two cups of tea (or perhaps a chai latte using almond milk), and if I drink any tea in the afternoon or evening (and I often do), it’s herbal and caffeine free.

And I honestly couldn’t feel better about it than I do. I feel great! I love the smell of coffee, and I do still enjoy the taste (provided there’s enough cream and sugar), but even after a couple of sips, I can recognize that my system just doesn’t like it anymore. In fact, my system all but completely rejects coffee, now that I’ve stopped consuming it.

These changes in me are profound.

And there are more (good! happy!) changes, too—not having anything to do with yoga.

But you’ll have to wait for another post…

A Sip of Freedom

“Dance, when you're broken open. Dance, if you've torn the bandage off. Dance in the middle of the fighting. Dance in your blood. Dance when you're perfectly free.”
― Rumi

Back in January, I went to my favorite yoga class. It was the first time I’d practiced yoga since my mom’s passing on November 29, 2012. The signs of depression were sinking in, and I had all but stopped moving my body—no yoga, no dancing, no exercise.

In that class, I had traumatic flashbacks of seeing my mom’s body in the hospital. And then I kept thinking, over and over again, about how her body could never do the things that mine can do—the things I was attempting right then, during class.

I’m not sure I could ever fully explain what happened in that hour and a half, or why that experience was so deeply traumatizing—but my grief was overwhelming.

From that point forward, the thought of practicing yoga again made me shiver.

I just wasn’t ready.

A month or two ago, my friend Liz Tucker came to town and held a bhavana in motion class at Move Studio.

Yoga was part of the class.

I knew that, and I felt that if I was going to step back on the mat, I wanted to do it in a safe place, with a trusted teacher and friend to help guide me through it.

For about the first 10 minutes that I stood on the mat, I wept. Tears flooded my face and the mat below me.

But I got through it.

But that isn’t what this story is about—I just wanted to give you some context, so you could grasp how much progress I’ve made in the last few months.

I journaled this last night after exercising and practicing yoga:

I’m sitting here on my purple yoga mat, crying. I’m not entirely certain why—except that the other day I realized I needed and wanted some time in pigeon pose, and so, that’s where I finally went.

And then the tears came, as I realized it wasn’t hard like it used to be, it was just a really nice stretch, a lovely pose, one of yielding and release and surrender and femininity.

And then, I lost it—realizing how far I’ve come in three years, since I first attempted yoga—and pigeon pose—

realizing just how much my body has yielded—

to my whims, wants, needs, desires, addictions, sadness, depression, grief—

My body has witnessed it all.

I am thankful…

Deeply thankful for being 38, and I get to choose how the women in y family are remembered. I honor them by dancing because they cannot dance. I honor them by practicing yoga because they cannot—and they never did.

I honor them by living as fully as I can—as exponentially as I can.

“I rise from all my sorrow, I let the sun shine on my face,
All alone in comfort, it’s my solitude I embrace.”
 – from the song ‘Quicksand’ by Natalie Walker/Thievery Corporation

I felt that tonight, as I moved on my makeshift dance floor with a fire and fervor inside of me as I realized—I am one body, dancing for three women who never danced—my grandmother, my mom, and my sister.

I dance the dance they never danced.

I dance my own dance, too.

My dance is the thread that binds together the lifetimes of women in my tribe who are no longer on this earth in physical form.

I practice yoga awkwardly. I am wobbly and odd, but interspersed are moments of purity—

of tranquility—

of grace—

of beauty—

A beauty I cannot express in words, and tonight, it expressed itself in tears during pigeon pose, and I flashed back to my traumatic yoga experience from January, and I honored the depth of grief I felt in those very long moments, realizing I was already (and finally) grieving many lifetimes worth of loss, sorrow, and despair.

And more tears came as I realized the freedom I am beginning to feel—

Freedom from chains that bound me to the past, freedom from the guilt I have always felt under the surface, freedom from a prison I will never adequately describe here.

This life of mine is a gift, and the best—the very best gift I can give to the women of my tribe, including me, including my family—here and gone—is to live it.

Live it fully and out loud…

Live it authentically and imperfectly and messily.

I am here for some unknown number of days. It is a gift I am only just beginning to truly unwrap and discover.

It is a gift I finally feel worthy of receiving.

My mom and my dad and God and the universe and all that is divine within and without—gave me this—

this gift of life.

And it is up to me to truly live it.

Thank you. Thank you for this blessing… thank you for this body, for this moment, for the dance, for the practice.

Thank you for this beautiful moment—where serenity coincides with joy.

And thank you, most of all, for love.

Three Wishes. No, Four. OK, Maybe Just One...

"Forgiveness is not much of a concept without something for which to forgive and be forgiven. Healing has no meaning in the absence of illness. Peace is no treasure at all to those who have known no war and no strife. Saying hello has no joy in it without the saying of good-bye."
--Robert Benson

I have three wishes for myself.

I would really like to stop being so damned hard on myself. I’m so tired of it, and it’s just not working for me anymore. The payoff I used to get (of getting to be the victim) isn’t something I want anymore, even in the short term. So now, it’s just painful.

You’d think that would be easy to change, right? Well, it’s proving to be a little more challenging than I originally thought. I’m not sure how to work hard and live my life well in an entirely positive way, where I’m not beating myself up at every turn. What I’m afraid of is that I’ll slip into lazy-ville. It’s so easy to do, after all. If I’m not working hard, then I must be lazy.

Extremes… black and white… don’t exist in reality. Life is colorful and yes, there is even gray mixed in as well.

So how do I find the balance?

After all, this is a life-long habit I’m trying to break.

The other thing I’d like to do is directly related to not being so hard on myself. I’d really like to state an intention, and then once I recognize that intention as feeling right and good—follow through with it.

No more balking, no more fear, no more hem-hawing, no more doubting myself, no more trash-talking myself and/or my abilities or worse—my self worth, no more not trusting me.

In other words—I want to cut the drama and just do it.

You might have ascertained by now that I’m what’s referred to as a bit of a “head case”, meaning I spend a lot of time analyzing myself, my actions, my inactions, my thoughts, my feelings, etc.

In fact, and I think I’ve mentioned this here before, but the rather amazing therapist I saw last year during the heat of the divorce said I’m the most self-analytical person she’d ever met.

That… says a lot coming from a therapist.

So, getting out of my own head is not only something I want, it’s something I need. It’s something I absolutely crave.

Yoga helps me with this. If I’m not fully present during a class, then I can’t do any of the poses. I can’t even come close. And the only time I can even attempt yoga at home is when I’m fully present.

What I’m noticing, though, is that I also really limit myself. Yoga practice has really brought that to the forefront of my awareness. I’ll sometimes automatically swear off a pose just because I don’t think I can do it.

So, the third thing I’d like for myself is to kick my self-imposed limits to the curb. I’d like to set myself free from the bondage and chains I’ve put myself in.

I’ve worked really hard on all three things over the past year and a half, in big areas of my life. And I’ve done well with shedding fear, limits, and being overly critical of myself in big, important ways.

It's the day-to-day where I need a little work. What I’ve recognized is that the habits of succumbing to fear, being overly critical of myself, and limiting myself, are well-engrained in me. And, like anything, a lifetime of practice doing something a certain way is not broken with a single monumental action to the counter. After that action, it takes diligence, practice, and effort.

And, one other very important ingredient…

Grace.

Most of all, I would like to learn how to give myself grace…

“Grace means more than gifts. In grace something is transcended, once and for all overcome. Grace happens in spite of something; it happens in spite of separateness and alienation. Grace means that life is once again united with life, self is reconciled with self. Grace means accepting the abandoned one. Grace transforms fate into a meaningful vocation. It transforms guilt to trust and courage. The word grace has something triumphant in it.”
 - Yrjo Kallinen 

“Above all the grace and the gifts that Christ gives to his beloved is that of overcoming self.”
 - Saint Francis of Assisi

So, how exactly am I going to do that, you ask?

In the great words of Philip Henslowe, as quoted from one of my favorite movies, Shakespeare in Love: "I don't know. It's a mystery."

Yoga: A Transformational Revelation

I’m in a constant state of soreness these days.

But, it’s a good kind of sore.

On Saturday, I went to a class that was entirely foreign to me. My therapist had actually urged me to go. She had talked about this class a couple of times before, but I managed to conveniently forget about it every time I walked out her door.

Last Thursday, I was in a very bad head space. I was stressed out about a lot of things and a lot of self-defeating tapes were on replay in my head. On the way to work, my phone rang, and it was my therapist.

Sometimes, when you’re in a bad head space, a phone call can feel like a lifeline. And that’s exactly what it felt like last Thursday—her phone call felt like a beam of light coming straight down from the heavens.

She was calling to give me details on the class, happening on Saturday.

I knew it was unavoidable this time.

I dreaded it… but I knew I had to go.

I’m not sure why I dreaded it so much. I guess it was just the fear of doing it wrong or making a fool of myself, or maybe it was just apprehension that it was going to be some hippy-dippy silliness that wouldn’t make sense to me (and, wow, how many judgments are wrapped up in that? Yeah… LOTS).

On Saturday afternoon, though, my fear subsided. I realized that I was falling back into the fear trap, which is a trap I had been stuck in for years, causing high anxiety over lots of things, like decisions I had to make, things I needed to do, and situations that were inevitably out of my control.

I’ve only recently re-discovered the fearlessness I felt as a little girl. So, once I realized what I was doing, I smiled, knowing that there were bigger issues to worry about than going to the Movement Montage class.

I felt awkward at first, because the instructor, Liz Tucker, started out with some Yoga poses. I’d never done Yoga before. I was clueless!

What if I do it wrong? What if I break something? What if—

Just breathe.

Just do it.

I took a deep breath, looked around and saw what others were doing, and I copied.

The second part was Ecstatic Dance. By the time Liz transitioned us to dancing, I was open, warm, and ready. I moved my body in every way I wanted to, and in every way it called me to move it. She played a couple of songs that have always touched me deeply for various reasons, and I felt a beautiful release. I also got a hell of a workout!

At the end, I felt more relaxed, open, warm, and calm than I’ve felt in years. It was absolutely blissful, and I can't wait to do it again.

Ever since Saturday, I’ve been obsessed with Yoga (not to mention dancing around in my living room like a wild thing). A couple of the poses Liz walked us through really inspired and moved me deeply.

I felt the beginnings of a magical awakening when we did child’s pose and pigeon pose. We did pigeon sitting upright as well as folded over, with some cool stretching movements to transition between the up and down parts.

I recognized the beauty of pigeon right away. I was struggling to keep my balance, with the muscles flexed and rigid in my folded leg. I didn’t even realize what my body was doing, but, for just an instant—my leg muscles relaxed.

And when I just let the leg be there, folded up under me like that… I felt a physical release and stretch and openness in my hips that I had never experienced. I had no idea how much I was holding in my hips, and how tight and heavy they had become. It was more transformative for me than I can possibly articulate here, but this pose is one my body has begged me to do every day since.

I have indulged, of course.

Child’s pose was very relaxing when I did it in the class, but since then, it’s become sacred. I had a breakthrough on Sunday evening, when I found myself in child’s pose on my living room floor. I stayed there for a few moments, trying different modifications of the position with my arms, head, and back, and I landed back in child’s pose with wide-spread knees, and my arms extended forward. I pressed my forehead into the carpet, and it hit me that this pose is much like a prayer pose.

And then I started crying.

I cried into the carpet for several minutes, feeling my connection to the Earth, as well as my own inner light, and feeling God in my heart in that moment.

And I prayed. I prayed about a difficult situation I was handling, and I asked questions, and then I went silent. I continued to lie there in child’s pose until I felt like moving. I have no idea how much time passed. I got up and went about finishing the laundry, and the answer I longed for came to me:

“You keep doing what you’re doing. Keep taking care of yourself, keep working on yourself, keep growing, as you already are. Let me handle them.”

The relief washed over me as I received that beautiful reminder. I don’t have to be in control of anyone or anything but me.

I have fallen in love with Yoga. I don’t know why I put off trying it for so long, but I think it had something to do with the fears I mentioned earlier.

No more fear! 

I can’t afford to go to classes all the time right now, but luckily for me, there is a wealth of knowledge available for free on the internet. And, I’ve figured out a way to get the lighting just right at home to see myself in a window, to check my positioning. For now, that will have to do.

This, I can tell, will be absolutely transformative for me. It’s already changing me, changing my body, my mind, and my attitude, and I’m only five days into it.

I look forward to tonight, so I can learn more poses.

If you practice Yoga… what’s your favorite pose?