I do yoga. Like most things, I do it my way. Kind of like Frank Sinatra, Elvis Presley or Sid Vicious. The record shows.
Little back story.
I started doing yoga with my best friend B. We were, and still are, kindred spirits. Sisters of the soul. Daughters from another mother. We were introspective, pensive young girls with poetic hearts. On our walks home from high school we spent the time chatting about the usual teenage things that cause angst or butterfly emotions. Boys and clothes and boys and music and boys and books and boys. But we also drilled deep. Explored the darkness and diaphanous shadowy places that sometimes scared the shit out of us.
Somewhere along that uneven lumpy sidewalk, from Hammarskjold High School to our respective homes, we had our first conversations about yoga. Little did we know then, that it would become B’s career, her passion, her calling and life’s work. And for me, it would become a daily part of my life. Like breathing and brushing my teeth.
Sometimes I think it saved our lives. Or at the very least, made it saner. A less troubled place to dwell. Not always serene and tranquil. But not a total train wreck either.
The mental, physical and spiritual benefits of yoga are incomparable.
I’m a creative and intuitive person. A writer with an overactive imagination. A sensitive and empathic being. I walk the rutted road. The pitted path littered with potholes. Equilibrium is not my natural state. Before finding yoga, I was neither calm, cool, and definitely not, collected.
But yoga, and then years later running, changed all that.
Spiritual benefits aside, without yoga, I’m not sure what physical shape I’d be in. I doubt that I could touch my toes. Nor bend like a pretzel. I know with 100% certainty that without my daily yoga practice I never would have recovered from a traumatic injury to my knees. A double whammy seven years ago that quite literally brought me to my knees. So bad that I never thought I’d run again. But four years on the yoga mat strengthening the muscles around my knees. Listening to my body. Relying on its inner physician. Trusting that it knew how to heal itself. Plus a couple of cocky faulty attempts at hitting the streets, because that’s just who I am. Then another two years of dedicated practice. More listening, listening, listening. To the inner wisdom of my body and spirit. A year ago I just knew the knees were completely healed.
I laced up the sneakers. And went for a run.
I’m a largely self-taught. And hardly a yogini, but I do know my way around my own body. Until seven years ago, I never had a yoga teacher, nor a mat, for that matter. Shortly after my son was born I bought a book called, Richard Hittleman’s Yoga 28 Day Exercise Plan. The poses in this little soft-cover book became the foundation of my daily yoga practice. Later I learned some new ones from The ABC of Yoga by Kareen Zebroff, and her marvelous television show.
After 28 days working through Hittleman’s book, I was hooked. Line and sinker. I was a master. A guru. A wise sage. Enlightened. Transcendent and spiritual. Of course, I was none of those things. I look back on my younger self, and I smile. Like Buddha.
It didn’t take much to bring Ma into my yoga circle. She too worked the book. Then Ma and I discovered Kareen’s Yoga television show. That was another life-changer.
No mats, no gear, no fancy pants.
This was over two decades before lululemon was founded in 1998. Just a mother and daughter in front of a small color TV with rabbit ears in the snug and secure living room at 204.
Here I am decades later. Still practicing many of the same poses from Hittleman and Zebroff. But with a twist.
I have a mat. It’s lime green.
2 thoughts on “Diaries of The Breadman’s Daughter: Yoga Saved my Life”
I can’t believe you started with Hittleman. So did I, back in the 70s before we moved to Saltspring. I not only have his “28-Day Exercise Plan”, I also have his “Weight Control Through Yoga”, bought at the old Sri Atman bookstore on Government Street near my very first design office in Market Square. How do I remember all that? I never throw a book away, it seems, so I just checked my shelf and there they were, with complimentary store bookmarks still in place. After months and months, I know I never managed to do all the positions you were supposed to achieve in 28 days. As for the weight loss (You can lose up to 10% of your total weight during the first week of the program! it promised), that was obviously a wash. This probably accounts for why I didn’t persist with Hittleman. However, I am recently back to yoga with a wonderful instructor who promises nothing and delivers everything!
Love this Silk! Not sure why Hittleman worked for me back then. I had no expectations. Just dove in. And thus began my daily practice. Just before I left the Malahat I found a wonderful gifted teacher, who I still practice with when time permits. She too promises nothing and delivers everything. I feel blessed to have found her. Delighted to hear you have found yoga again! It’s something we can do until we drop! xx