I attended my first yoga class on Halloween 2010. I was immediately drawn to yoga’s graceful movements that felt familiar in my body having grown up a dancer. I was a natural and the teacher confirmed it. I had never considered myself a competitive person but quickly found myself striving to achieve the most advanced poses. While yoga is defined as the practice of ‘yoking’ or uniting the body and the mind, the studio became a place for me to compare myself to other bodies in the class.
I almost immediately enrolled in teacher training so I could offer yoga as an activity for the guests staying at our surf lodge. I specifically asked for a recommendation for a training program that focused on the physical aspect of yoga with less of an emphasis on spirituality. I remember sitting through the weekend course on yoga philosophy feeling like I must have been the only one who hadn’t taken acid to understand what a ‘chakra’ was.
After moving to Popoyo, Nicaragua, a place that seems to facilitate a lot of healing to those that are receptive to it, I was reintroduced to the philosophies that had at one time overwhelmed me. With the right delivery, I developed an appreciation for the yamas and niyamas that ethically guide us to live in alignment with our values.
At the same time, however, I was obsessively trying to master advanced poses, contorting myself into shapes my body wasn’t ready for until I thought I had damaged my knees to the point of no return (thankfully they’ve since recovered). Not only was my physical practice destructive, but also my inner dialogue. Ironically enough, I was using my practice to further disconnect myself from my body and its innate wisdom. I had become so dissociated that I couldn’t even identify my emotions aside from chronic low-level anxiety.
Eventually, I hit a breaking point where I realized my practice should be a way to accept and celebrate my body rather than punish it. I had to take a gentler approach, slow down, and listen. I had to question the intention behind my disordered behaviors and learn to move with respect and integrity.
The lessons we learn on the yoga mat are meant to translate into the way we live our lives off of the mat. My practice looks a lot different than it used to. Now I let the practice of ahimsa, or nonviolence, guide me in listening to what my body is asking for. Ahimsa covers everything from practicing a more restorative style of yoga to honoring my hunger cues to working on my body image. Yoga has revived my senses and taught me to nurture my body in a balanced way.
‘And so I said to my body, “I want to be your friend.” It took a long breath and replied, “I’ve been waiting my whole life for this.”’
