What Is With All These People Doing Yoga?

I don’t remember the first time I ever tried yoga. It was, I’m sure, about 15 years ago. Man, that makes me feel old. More than likely, the first class I took was at my gym, which was in Cape Town. And I’m fairly certain that my mom got me to try it out.

It was a small, boxy room, that could easily have been someone’s office at one point. The floor was carpeted, blue I think, and there was a window, which (as is often the case in Cape Town) looked out over Table Mountain.

I have absolutely no idea what we did in class. There are really only 2 things I do remember. The first is that I could not understand why on earth the teacher kept referring to Down Dog as a resting pose. Nothing about standing on all fours with one’s butt in the air was restful to me. The second thing I remember was how aware I was of my performance. Although reluctant to indirectly give away my age, the teenager that I was desperately needed to be at least better than some of the others in the room. For this reason, I pushed myself harder than I probably should have.

Now that I’m journeying back, there is another thing I remember. One of our teachers was an elderly man named Ivan. In my memory, he was an 80 year old Indian man, only measuring up to about my shoulder in height – of course I could be horribly wrong about that and, if he happens to be reading this, I do apologise. Regardless of whether he was 80, 60, Indian or French, he was undoubtedly remarkable. This small framed man, who was (specifics aside) a few decades older than me, could fold himself in half, lift grown men on his back and hang out on his head with a degree of comfort many of us only find when lounging on the couch.

The fact that I remember him so well, when many other details of my first practices escape me, makes me think. In some way I feel as though seeing this man, so nimble and strong, set in motion the belief that a regular yoga practice could only lead to good health long into my grey-haired future. While so many of a similar age become limited in movement, restricted by the usual age-related struggles, it was clear to me that yoga was the reason why Ivan had avoided this fate.

Yoga continued to play a, albeit small, role in my life for the following years. My family and I discovered a “studio” round the corner from our house, located within a temple. Once again I do not remember what we actually did in class, but it was my first taste of a more spiritual practice.

My first experience with hot yoga was when my, at the time, boss and friend introduced me to a Bikram class. The heat kicked my butt in a way I found mildly addictive, but the strict rules and harsh nature of the class was rather off-putting for me. I yearned for a heated class, which naturally requires discipline, but without the feeling of being scolded for not “performing”. It begs to be said, therefore, that this too did not stick for long.

And so my yoga journey continued like this, on and off. The on phases were primarily driven by a desire to lose weight and get a bit stronger. They would last a couple months and then fade off; much like many of the things we try.

It wasn’t until I moved to the US that I truly discovered why it is that yoga absolutely NEEDS to be a part of my life.

The move was a time of enormous stress, as it was accompanied by many other events that caused heartache. I found myself, for reasons that can only be linked to a deeper, subconscious understanding, instinctively drawn to my mat. I began rolling it out in my back garden and doing who knows what on it. In time I sought out a studio and, a few months after that, a little voice inside me told me to do my teacher training course.

I have never looked back.

When I am able to maintain a regular practice, everything seems to be more manageable. I have better control of my emotions, I am more self aware, peaceful and content. My body feels more awake, refreshed and healthy. I begin to crave healthier things – food, interactions, thoughts. I am more patient with others, more accepting. There is a calm, a stillness that comes from the discipline and the movement. I learn more about myself, understanding more through the quiet that one hopes to achieve.

Everything that happens on your mat becomes an opportunity to learn, a metaphor for something in your life. And the more you practice, the easier you are able to see and apply what you experience.

We all come to our mats for different reasons, but the underlying sentiment is the same – we are all looking for something. Everyone in the room is craving something and hoping that what they have heard about yoga is correct.

In my experience, there is no doubt.

You do not need to be able to touch your toes or do a headstand to be welcomed into this supportive community. I practiced right up until the day I went into labor with Maya and, believe me, for much of my pregnancy there was a lot that I could not do. All you need to do is take the step and give it a try. Meet yourself exactly where you are at and forget about where you think you should be. Your body is unique and it has already been on a journey, which no other person has been on. With that in mind, go slow, breathe deeper and allow the magic to unfold. You deserve it!

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