Yoga School Drop-Out

In response to my angry rant post, Sare-Bear wrote, “Have you even TRIED yoga?”

I laughed out loud at that one. Yes I have, but yoga and I have a long, complicated history.

My sister has practiced yoga for a long time. She has a calm and peaceful disposition which I always thought she was born with, but perhaps there is something about her I don’t know.

In high school she introduced me to my first pose, a kneeling torso twist. I complained it hurt, she encouraged me to be patient, and only go as far as was comfortable. But I felt upset and didn’t know where it was coming from, started crying and ended up walking away from yoga for a few years.

In college I decided I to try yoga again. I attended a liberal school and I thought perhaps yoga would give me something brilliant to say at the frat party I once attended. I printed instructions off the internet and started practicing on my own until someone at the gym practically lunged across the stretch room to save me from snapping my neck doing the inverted shoulder stand. He said I was going to kill myself unless I got some proper instruction.

Scared stiff, (ironic, huh?) I signed up for a Basic Yoga class. The teacher was a pro, rather bendy and upbeat. She was so pleased with the class’ overall skill level that she had us doing full headstands by week 2 for a “special treat.” So special I dropped out by week 3. My poor little neck couldn’t take it anymore.

I would do a pose here and there or be invited to a class or two, but would find the whole experience of sitting, waiting, stretching to be excruciating. Not just on my body, but on my mind too.

I know – all the more reason to practice.

My most recent attempts at a yoga practice were about a year and a half ago, I would download the free “Yogamazing” clips on iTunes, again recommended by my sister – and I would still recommend them. The instructor, Chaz, is funny and the clips are short enough to be done any time. Unfortunately Chaz really loves Downward Dogs, which were killing my elbows, exacerbating a pre-existing neck and back injury, and I didn’t want to do yoga anymore.

But I’d be lying if I said that’s the only reason I stopped. I know there are plenty of poses that accommodate my problems. I don’t do it for the same exact reasons I don’t do the other things my family recommends with any regularity: prayer, meditation. All three of these things involve being quiet, still, contemplative. Lately, if I’m somehow trapped in a place where I have to sit quietly with nothing to do, like an airplane or at the Secretary of State, I start crying uncontrollably. In public. I start crying unless I’m so busy that I’m distracted from all my feelings. I’m scared that if I stop long enough I’ll snap, and I don’t mean my neck.

I decided last week to take a nap after work. This was a monumental decision as I haven’t taken a nap in years, with the exception of the time I inadvertently drank decaf coffee in the morning. I lay down, and within a minute or two was wailing uncontrollably. My husband, arriving home a few minutes later, rushed to the bedroom, he thought maybe I’d broken my leg or something…nope, just your garden variety nervous breakdown.

Obviously my feelings of grief are a major part of this extreme behavior, but even before my father passed away, sitting silently was uncomfortable, challenging.

There is a great quote by the Catholic apologist, G.K. Chesterton, and while he is speaking specifically about Christianity, I think it could be applied to any serious disciplines:

“The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting; it has been found difficult and left untried."

So. Yes. I have untried yoga.