Because I Can
The other day I went to my “tough” yoga class. This class is taught by my favorite yoga teacher, who I’ve been studying under for over 6 years. I call it the “tough” class because it is a more advanced class than the class I teach. There’s more intense movement in the class. I can keep up pretty well as long as we aren’t doing headstands. Well, I could keep up pretty well until July. That’s when my body started talking back to me. That’s when my stamina went to shit and I couldn’t do many of the things I used to do. I was disappointed and depressed. I had expectations for my body that she wasn’t sticking to.
Over the next few months, I didn’t quit yoga. I still taught my yoga class. It’s a simpler, gentler class. I started going to active aging yoga. It’s a class for older adults (well, aren’t I an older adult?) where we practice less strenuous movements while still support the spine and core. I also visited one other class that was less intense. So, I didn’t give up my yoga practice; I just softened it a bit.
I’m also not hiking as much. For some, my efforts might still seem pretty strong, but for me, they are minimal. Between the lack of stamina, the softer yoga, and the minimal hikes, my stamina has slipped even more. I was rather nervous about going back to the “tough” class.
During the course of the day, I thought about how hard the class has been sometimes. What would I do if the instructor gave me some tricky poses to do that I haven’t done in months? I would do what I can. The one thing that resonates for me and yoga is that it is all about doing what I can. Heck, there are some days in my own yoga class when I fall out of the pose I am demonstrating for my students. For me, yoga is about connecting with my body and knowing when it has had enough. It’s about feeling my strength and feeling the pushback. So it was okay for me to go to this more challenging class, even if I spent the entire time lying on my mat. My upholder personality wasn’t going to let that happen. I would get at least a few down dogs in before I collapsed.
When the time came, I headed out to the class. When I arrived ,I was happy to see my yoga friends. These are people I’ve been practicing with for 6 years. Granted, some have left, new students have joined, and there are those who’ve been with me for the long haul. As I mentioned, I’ve been avoiding this class because of my stamina issues. So when I walked into class, one of my classmates approached me. She said, “Hi! How are you doing? I haven’t seen you in a while! Have you been traveling?” I wish. I told her about my physical challenges. I mentioned I had been having stamina issues for a few months. I explained that my doctor discovered I had high thyroid numbers. I told her the doctor was holding off on medication for a few weeks to see if the numbers would drop. Then I told her about my stenosis and degenerative spine. “Oh! How high are your thyroid numbers?” she asked. I told her. “Oh! That’s really high” she told me. She wished me well and went back to her mat.
I sat on my mat and thought about our interaction. I felt as if I had just excused myself from not being in class for a few months. I felt like I had made it “ok” to not go to class because there was something wrong with me. Really? Should I be forcing myself to go to class? I mean what if I felt fine? Did I have to attend yoga classes all the time? Did it mean I was a slacker or a loser if I wasn’t showing up? Hell no!
I don’t blame my yoga friend for passing any judgements. She didn’t pass any judgements. She didn’t say anything to me about how I was only allowed to miss class because I was having health issues. But I did. I said that to myself. Through the last few months I told myself, “It’s okay that you’re not going to the tough class because your body is broken.” Hell, it’s okay for me to not go to class because...I just don’t want to go to class. There’s no reason to judge myself for not doing yoga. I love yoga. If I push myself to do it, I’m not going to love it for much longer. I think that sort of goes against the entire yoga philosophy. I can be pretty silly sometimes.
So I stayed in the studio. I stayed for the entire class. I didn’t lie down (till the sivasana at the end). It wasn’t because I was pushing myself either. I listened to my body, and I did the poses that I could. When my body told me “no,” I stopped. I chose alternate poses. I’m a yoga teacher; I have a whole arsenal of moves in my tool belt. I felt connected to the aliveness in my body. For me, that was a successful yoga experience. Maybe “successful” is an inappropriate word here. It implies good and bad. My body is never bad. Perhaps I shall say, “for me, that was a time when my body and I were at peace with each other.” Being at peace with my body, that is my intention.
