But more than remembering the "when", I remember the "why". It was a time (8 or so years ago) when I was constantly stressed with a full-time job, had two sons in college who weren't exactly taking full advantage of the academic possibilities as much as the social ones, and caring for a mother who needed more and more time and attention as dementia took hold of her previously facile brain. I felt like I was falling apart inside and out.
After much cajoling and many recommendations I came to Yoga Circle Studio. It wasn't always easy; in fact, at first it was hard. I was out of shape, overweight, and feeling depressed. I judged myself mercilessly. But still....there was something there that I needed. So I kept coming back and realized that on some level I felt like I'd come home. I'd come home to myself.
Sometimes when I look around at the classes I usually attend -- the 10:00 a.m. weekday classes -- I see a lot of people who are around my age. My age being in league with those who are retired, or nearly so, whose children are likely raised, who maybe have a grandchild or two. Who else can regularly show up at a 10:00 a.m. class??? When I was younger I had a toddler and a baby hanging on me at about that time of morning, or was the Classroom PTA Mom, or was working full-time. I am at a stage of life now that allows me to be anywhere I want to be at 10:00! Yay!
This is an age when we get to become reacquainted with ourselves. We get to put ourselves first at least part of the time; get to carve out a few hours a week to unroll a sticky mat and just be. We get to say hello to our bodies, feel the life-giving breath come in and go out, settle our minds in the moment. It's a lovely respite from a life that can still be too busy, but when we focus on the moment, we realize we are at home with ourselves.
The miracle of Yoga is well-publicized these days -- most recently I read an article in the Harvard Health Publication of the Harvard Medical School touting Yoga as one modality in the treatment of depression and anxiety that is on par with medication and even electroconvulsive therapy. That is high praise and gives hope for a more natural approach to emotional pain.
When I am filled with awe or gratitude, my heart seems to swell with emotion and tears come to my eyes easily. Last week this happened to me as I lay on my back in one of Elizabeth's classes. She quietly approached me and asked me to make a minor adjustment in my alignment, whispering that I was perhaps off center due to my scoliosis. I didn't even recall telling her of my scoliosis, but she remembered. I felt so "seen", so nurtured by her caring. Granted I'd had a terrible week filled with anxiety and grief over my brother's last days of illness and then death, so maybe I was primed for the tears, but still....
Again I was filled with gratitude for our teachers and for this practice of challenge and rest, that respects each body and soul, that lets us slowly remold and rewire body and brain, that welcomes us home to loving ourselves.
I don't come to class so much for the exercise as for the healing. How about you?©
Namaste, donnajurene
Photo Credit: pixabay.com
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