Yoga meets you where you are
The craft in yoga is the technique.
The art truly comes in the spaces in between.
Ten weeks ago, on a fateful Saturday morning, I woke up before dawn and changed into my worn-out sports bra, baggy tee, and favourite leggings. I was both excited and nervous to begin the first day of my 200-hr Yoga Teacher Training.
But of course, as life would always choose to shake up my plans, I have underestimated the time required to make my way to town. The closer I am to my destination, the more anxious I became. I checked my phone every half a minute while quickening my steps, praying that I will not be the last to arrive at class. It was not the kind of entrance I was hoping for on the first day of training.
I arrived just on time and struggled to find a safe spot by the corner of the room next to the window. Yes! I heaved a soft sigh of relief but my heart was still racing, fearing the unknown. Everyone had already settled down and it felt like they knew what they have signed up for.
We formed a circle and began our self-introductions. My heart was pounding out of my chest as my turn drew closer. I can’t even recall now what I’ve shared in front of 18 strangers. Did I make sense? I don’t know. I was too anxious and caught up in my mind to remember my words. We were dismissed after the morning circle and we went home for our physical practice abiding by the Covid-19 safety measures.
The idea of making conversations felt daunting, despite knowing that I had signed up to be a part of a community (kula), not a private class. It was almost as though the pandemic had robbed me of my social skills, and I was so concerned that people might start noticing that I’m a fraud, and this isn’t where I should be. To let you into my world, you should know that I did not have a regular yoga practice before signing up for this 8-weeks training. Crazy, I know. The last time I attended a class in this yoga studio was almost four years back. During the Circuit Breaker, I relied on YouTube videos for any form of physical exercise.
The initial weeks were tough for me as I attempted advanced asana poses for the first time. Sometimes, I didn’t know where my legs and hands should be when my teacher, Leigh, named a pose, much less to deliver it with grace. So imagine my delight when I knew our physical practice would be via Zoom. This hybrid training model was readily accepted by an introvert like me. However, I’ve soon realised that while remaining in my comfort zone might feel safe momentarily, that doesn’t offer growth.
A couple of weeks in, the rules for Covid-19 safe distancing measures had loosened up. We are now allowed to exercise in a bigger group with our masks on. So when Leigh asked the class for our opinions, to my own surprise, I raised my hand to cast a vote for physical practice in the studio. My first studio practice as a group allowed me to ride on the energy of the kula, quietly observing others transitioning into poses and nudging myself a little further, out of my comfort zone.
I wasn't sure when, but I slowly opened my heart to meet my kula mates on a personal level. We got to know one another during break times, teaching labs, and sharing circles. Even just their quiet presence in the studio felt soothing to me. For twenty-eight years, I have never felt more belonged to a circle than now. I also knew that if it weren't for my own will to rewrite old narratives that no longer served me well, I wouldn't be able to offer the same level of comfort and support to my kula mates too. Even before I connected the dots, life had already prepared me for this moment to experience the training at my best.
One time, we had a Yoga Nidra practice pretty early on during the training. As I was lying on the mat in corpse pose (savasana), preparing to close down my eyes and quieten my mind, I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. Leigh was artfully holding space for us to come home to ourselves. Despite being in a room of acquaintances that met just a few weekends ago, I felt safe to be myself. Allowing the mat to support the weight of my body and my anxieties, I flipped my palms up to receive. In that moment of surrender, I knew that I’d made the best decision of my life to sign up for this yoga teacher training. I knew that even if I did not carry on my path to be a yoga teacher after, this moment alone is genuinely enough.
Through the training, my relationship with myself has shifted profoundly. I used to have so much resentment towards my body for being weak and imperfect. It was easy to fall into the trap of comparison and self-loathe whenever I stare at my reflection through the mirrors. Why am I not skinny enough? Why am I not strong enough? Why can’t I be confident of my body and show up to class with just a sports bra?
One day, we had a yoga practice that shook me up in the best way possible. The theme of the practice was death, and we were invited to think of something that we wish to let go. I was so tired of all my unreasonable demands for my body, and I just wanted to let go of these weighing thoughts.
I stopped looking at my reflection to find a reason to blame my body for what she is not. Instead, I stared hard into the mirror and ask for reasons to celebrate her achievements and grit, just for one day. I have forgotten that this abled body had powered me through life. Somewhere in between the practice, I closed my eyes to silence the chatter of my mind and sensed every muscle and breath moving through the sequence. I started thanking every part of my body for not forsaking me even when I had let myself down. That moment of guilt, release, followed by acceptance, felt like a withered leaf falling off its stem. Then, a part of me blossomed, celebrating this newfound friendship with myself. I can’t explain well in words how much that sequence meant to me. I never expected yoga to speak to me in such intimate ways.
You see, my dear friend, I finally learned that yoga is not a sport to see how flexible you can be. Yoga is not a chill out activity. And yoga is definitely not just "for the gram". My misinterpretation of yoga was the byproduct of capitalism and following too many "influential" yoga teachers on social media.
Yoga is simple. Yoga is a dance of life. To fully appreciate this art form, we need to show up for this dance with intimacy and authenticity.
On our final week during a closing circle, we were asked to share our favourite moments throughout the 9-weeks training. I was too emotional then to even string up a proper sentence. Having more time and space to articulate my thoughts now, here’s one of my favourite moments.
It was the day of our final practicum.
I had the honour to witness seventeen yoga sequences (including mine) delivered with pure love, delight, and celebration for life. Some were playful expressions of life, and some were invitations to find gratitude from within. The creative expressions of movement with breath were such a treat for my eyes and nourishing for my soul.
The craft in yoga is the technique.
The art truly comes in the spaces in between.
Art is the expression of poses.
But with art and no grounding in craft, it might get a little noisy.
With art and craft, yoga becomes meaningful.
~ Adapted from Leigh's sharing on the Art & Craft of Yoga.
A yoga class is a collective masterpiece made possible by the ones (both the teacher and practitioners) who are committed and open to receiving. And I desire to continually refine my art and craft and, hopefully, share my idea of yoga with you someday.
Your friend,
Candice
