Yoga was always something I dabbled in. And by dabbled in, I mean "practiced for 10 minutes a day, maybe twice a week." For years, I had suffered from back pain, and I figured that yoga was the only solution.
To be honest, it wasn't. I had a slipped disc that required surgery, which is why that pain had never gone away. After that was taken care of, I — foolishly — put yoga to rest. I had a toddler on my hands, and it was just hard to devote time to myself the way I wanted. But this year I realized how important devoting time really was.
The last time I saw my dad was in December, for our family Christmas party. I never thought that would be the last time I'd see him. While his health history included a few big scares in the past, I never would have expected his health to decline during such a scary time for the world. He didn't have the coronavirus, but it kept me from seeing him. It kept me from visiting and being able to hold his hand during his stay at the hospital.
My dad and I were quite close, with long phone calls multiple times during the week. We talked about everything — on Wednesdays, we gossiped about Survivor prior to the show airing. On Fridays, we recapped what happened. We discussed the family, and he kept me updated on everything going on. He and I discussed politics, a topic I had only recently felt comfortable having an intellectual conversation about (as I only felt my interest grow in 2008). But he never told me about his doctor's appointments.
In fact, one day he told me that if something serious happened, he probably wouldn't tell me. "I wouldn't want to worry you," he said. That comment, alone, was worrisome.
After my dad passed away in July, I knew that I was very capable of unraveling right then and there. That's when my husband suggested that I check out a studio that was literally two minutes away from where we lived. It was within walkable distance, and as he said, it offered outdoor classes.
I laughed at him a little. And that's because I've never done group classes before. Probably the closest I've gotten to a group class was doing the Sweatin' to the Oldies VHS tapes back when I was a child. Our doors at my dad's house didn't lock, so there were many awkward encounters of someone walking in while I was swinging my arms to the hits of the '70s, and me yelling at them to get out. Still, I knew that there was no class out there that would be as positive and judgment-free as the great Richard Simmons.
Right after my dad passed, I signed up for online therapy. And in looking for some good ideas to try to heal my grief, I haphazardly told my therapist that my husband had suggested yoga.
"That's a great idea," she responded. She told me that yoga was a great form of self-care. It would also help me focus on my breathing, which was very important. As scared as I was, I signed up for a class.
I came hilariously unprepared. Not only did I forget my water bottle, but I forgot my mat. The instructor, who was teaching the class outside, kindly let me borrow one from the studio. Already, I felt like maybe I didn't belong. But I figured it could always be a one-time thing. After the class, I could tell my therapist and husband that I did it, and it didn't work.
I looked around at the others in the class. Many were women who seemed slightly older than me. They had confidence and had picked the perfect wardrobe. For me, I dressed similarly to the way I did in high school gym class. It's literally been that long since I exercised in front of others.
Having the class outdoors helped ease my panic a little bit. For months prior to, I was cooped up inside. I took the coronavirus seriously, and still do. But part of it felt freeing to be outside with others, experiencing the same mental relief. Up until that exact point, I didn't realize how much I missed other people.
At the end of class, we were told to take a Shavasana. The term was new to me, but I soon learned that it was the period of total relaxation at the very end of class. "It is a restorative pose, and arguably one of the most important," the website Aaptiv explains much better than I. "All you have to do is lie face up on your mat. You should leave your palms facing up as well to receive energy and blessings from the universe."
At that moment, I looked into the sky. Typically, I — as others did — should have closed my eyes, but looking up at the swaying trees was much more therapeutic. At that moment, I felt at peace. I realized, looking up, that the world was so much bigger than most people realize.
It also made me feel closer to my dad. While I'm personally still trying to figure out my own beliefs regarding an afterlife, I felt like there was a possibility that from up above, he was looking right back at me at that moment, proud that I had actually attended a class.
The yoga itself was, I must admit, a little challenging. I left with a red face and a sweaty mat. But that was the point. Afterward, I felt accomplished. And I felt like I could achieve anything. It's kind of like I viewed myself the way my dad had for so many years. One of his most popular compliments was that I "always come through" when things get tough. As I told him time and time again, I didn't realize I had a choice not to when I was a child.
But I saw it as being true. I could have very well canceled this class. I had plenty of excuses ready — from the pandemic to being too sad to being too out of shape for something like this. But I went and signed up for two more classes while I was there.
I signed up for the classes somewhat blindly. That first class was a Vinyasa class. Vinyasa is technically a style of yoga that can come through in many different types of classes. But as the main focus, Vinyasa is all about the flow, in moving from one position to another.
Let's just say that I'm not very graceful, yet I still continued on. With each class, I got better. After those, I signed up for another class called Yoga Nidra. This was the first class that I took indoors.
That, alone, was a little scary. But by then, I had built trust with this particular yoga studio. They were on the smaller side and seemed really set on being as safe as possible. Temperature checks were taken beforehand, and the class size was small — just four people.
Yoga Nidra was a completely different experience. For one, it's known as "yogic sleep." It's meant to relax you, put your mind at ease, and, as my instructor said, "make you feel like you got a solid 8 hours last night." That feeling of refreshment was what I really needed. Honestly, it's what everyone needs. It was a temporary break from all of the other stress I was dealing with — from my dad's passing to the election to having moved somewhat recently. I had so many segments of my life that seemed incomplete, but for that hour-and-a-half class, everything seemed OK.
I'm not going to say that I'm on my way to becoming a yoga professional. But I do recommend it, as it helped heal me in ways I didn't even realize it could. Exercise in general is great for your mind and your spirit. Yoga is good for your soul.
It's important for everyone to take some time for themselves and be honest when things feel out of control. Adding a class once a week is something I've grown to look forward to. It's time where I can recenter and, for once, feel in control.
