At the time I discovered yoga, I was participating in a group aerobics class. He was also the proud owner of a very successful video store and had just closed a bankrupt gift shop. My daughter, who was 18 months old at the time, accompanied me everywhere, even to work. The exercise class was her first daycare experience and it wasn’t a good one. I had to look for something different in the form of movement and somehow found myself in a yoga class at a local studio. I knew absolutely nothing about the practice, so this would be a new experience for me. Little did I know that this new experience would forever change the way I viewed my life.
I remember feeling awkward and out of place in the first yoga class I participated in. I remember wondering, “Why is this so difficult?” I also remember being totally impressed afterwards. As I looked around the room at the other yogis as they enjoyed poses with peaceful faces, I remember wanting to find that. I returned to class at the rate of two or three times a week. I learned meditation techniques, I learned Pranayama (breathing techniques), I learned sun salutations, I learned to hold still poses, and most of all, that first year. I learned to relax. Being constantly on the go and thinking that I always had to be busy, I was intrigued by the idea of resting and knowing that I was okay. I guess in the beginning, if I had been asked the definition of yoga, my answer probably would have been that it was a great physical challenge and a bit tiring on my mind. I found places in my body that I never knew existed during that first year. I found a respite that I never knew I could take too. I was curious to find more space in my body and to observe what was going on in my mind, so I continued with the practice. I started diversifying after that first year and taking classes from different teachers. The styles, it seemed, were endless. Each teacher had something new and different to offer. I was hooked forever.
In the following years of my yoga practice, I found serenity and peace of mind. Things that were beautiful looked prettier now, and things that were hard all of a sudden weren’t so hard. I experienced an abandonment, both in mental disorder and in material things. I just didn’t need so many “stuff” and I started to feel like a much lighter person. I started listening instead of talking so much when I was in conversation. I was less anxious, I stood taller and smiled more. For me, yoga is all the things that you already have, but have not yet taken advantage of. I suppose if I had been asked the definition of yoga at this point, it would have been something more like calm after the storm, mental clarity, roomy hips, better posture, and soft eyes. I know that taking a yoga class can open many doors. I also know that once these doors are opened, the decision is made whether or not to return to class. I kept coming back for more.
When my first teacher asked me to start helping her in class, I thought she had lost her mind. Why would you ask me to do that? How could I walk around the room and help someone the way she had helped me? I am by no means extroverted. I discovered that several yoga teachers have theatrical quality and experience. I am a quiet person. He could not, in any way, stand in front of people and speak, much less guide them through a class. Being on display was never high on my to-do list. I was happy enough, moving through my life quite unnoticed. He basically said he had to do it, especially if he was scared of him, kind of like writing this little chapter. I started by helping with the positions during relaxation, making sure the students had what they needed in terms of props and so forth. Helped with subtle adjustments while in savasana, a shoulder tap, or a head and neck adjustment. I felt incredibly comfortable doing this, but of course the lights were off and the students were resting. If I had been asked the definition of yoga at this point, it would have been something more like helping other people feel better about themselves, giving without receiving, and breathing deeply with a happy sigh. He loved what he was doing. I loved the idea of doing it forever. I loved the idea that if I couldn’t do it forever, it didn’t matter, because today was enough. I found patience and appreciation for the moment.
I started spending more time outside of my business so I could be in the yoga room. I paid my manager at my video store, way more than I paid myself. It did not matter. I was in love with what I was doing and it meant something to me. Some weeks, I ended up saying yes to all the side jobs. At times, I would stand in for more than a few of my friends who were teaching full time. After 12 years of playing business owner, I made the decision to close the store. Independently owned video stores had been hit hard by chain stores and our area was plagued with them. The decision was not difficult. I remember walking through the empty store after closing, taking a deep breath, and feeling so grateful that I didn’t spend more time with the entertainment industry on a daily basis. I suppose that if you had asked me at this point in my life what the definition of yoga would have been, it would definitely have been, to be able to let go with ease, that nothing is permanent, that all things can and will change, and that everything will be fine. Letting go of the business was not as difficult as I expected. I feel that practicing yoga can ease any transition in your life, and my practice has helped me go through several.
I kept substituting and they finally gave me a class of my own. I taught at the YMCA, I taught at the studio, I went to workplaces and universities. I kept practicing with students and teachers alike. I practiced at home, outdoors, and when on vacation. I immersed myself in books and DVDs. I traveled when I was able to attend workshops with teachers I had heard of and even did not have. I ended up with some classes of my own and the students kept coming back. At this point in my life, if I had been asked the definition of yoga, it would have been more like we were all part of the bigger picture, something much bigger than ourselves. That practice unites peace and people in a positive way and that stepping on the mat is not always easy. There is a lot of beauty on the mat. There is also a lot of ugliness. I think that on the mat we find our truth, good, bad, beautiful or ugly.
Today, I lead several classes a week in different places. I still take workshops and classes from other yoga teachers when I can and am still impressed. I’m still a student, first and foremost. I love the idea that there will always be something new to learn and that my body will constantly change and so will my practice. Also, I have never participated in a yoga class that I did not enjoy. Each class has been a learning experience of personal growth, physical limits and mental clarity. I am very grateful to all the teachers that I have spent time with. It doesn’t matter if you were a new teacher, an experienced teacher, or a yoga star. It doesn’t matter if I spent a lot of money on trips to take your class, if you were a local, or if you pissed me off. It doesn’t matter if I made some dough because I was able to take you to my area. You were amazing, everyone. And you know who you are.
For me, yoga is in everything. It is the ebb and flow. It is the journey of every day and the consciousness of the moment. It is the warm sun in winter and the cold rain in summer. They are your family, your friends, and your pets. Yoga is hard and soft. It is laughter and joy as well as sadness and pain. It is conscious training with a higher purpose. It is reaching high and it is leaning down. It is the earth under our feet and the sky and the stars above us. It is the best medicine I have ever taken. It’s the smiles on the children’s faces. It’s a hot cup of tea and a good book. It’s the garden you tend to in your backyard. It is being there for someone in a time of need. It’s about knowing how to step back and take time for yourself. It’s a greeting to the sun on your deck on a sunny day. It is meditation wrapped in blankets during an ice storm when the power goes out. It is the best chocolate you have ever tasted. It is the best fit on a downward facing dog I have ever owned. It’s the people in the yoga room and the ones who haven’t gotten there yet. Yoga is this moment, here and now.