Last week I decided to return to a yoga class.
For anyone that’s struggled to maintain a consistent practice, you will be able to relate even partially to my anxiety over returning. I know things about yoga, OK; I get it. I dig the soul-growth, the awareness and the purposeful breathing.
What I don’t always “get” is how to make time for it. I’m paying for that unsteady practice right now. My back is stiff and hurts more than it should. My brain is often victimized by whirlwind emotions that I never take the time to notice until they’re overwhelming. My appreciation for myself -- body, mind and spirit -- has dwindled and sometimes sinks into self-loathing.
In short, I was way overdue for mat time. I dropped into a class at the local gym. I was pleased to note that two former fellow students were in attendance, and that the instructor was incredibly welcoming. It was invigorating to roll out my mat around people of all ages; it’s never quite the same when I practice alone.
I’m a seasoned vet when it comes to restarting my yoga practice. By now, I know how humbling that first time or so back on the mat can be; but this time, I welcomed it. I was so excited to struggle and find new limits -- limits to set goals by -- and new strengths as well. I was ready to be pushed, guided and supported by people other than myself.
It’s still so beautiful and mysterious how a yoga class can simultaneously provide the comfort of community and enable deep introspection. Being able to sweat and internally beg my body to hold a pose for two more breaths was so refreshing; I was able to see the instructor and other students so I could make sure I was holding myself properly, but I was also provided the first real opportunity in much too long to focus on how my body felt and how to make the most of each breath.
My yoga practice is not what it once was. It was easy to accept the positives of yoga when I wasn’t challenged both on and off the mat. Now, I appreciates the struggles yoga presents -- because it never strands me on an island of self-doubt; it always, always smiles and offers an adjustment if I’m not quite ‘there’ yet.
In this time of transition -- I’m moving into my senior year of college -- the reality of life beyond undergrad is very near, and often unnerving. Returning to yoga is all too appropriate in a phase that deserves patience, gentle pushes, clarity of mind and gratitude. Taking the time to pause and thank my body on the mat puts me in the practice of pausing to express gratitude off the mat, whether it’s to my parents for actually making everything possible, my boyfriend for his support and balance, professors for sharing their wisdom and opinions or friends for helping me grow up.
The lesson is clear -- yoga is the manifestation of important life skills. Remembering that being the most flexible person in the room isn’t the goal of yoga makes me all the more grateful for the practice; my mat, teachers and classmates don’t care what brand of yoga pants I wear, but only that I show up, try my best and radiate good vibes.
