I went to yoga the other night, for the first time in almost three years. Back then, I was a recent Ontario transplant (I’d been living in Kits, my “starter” hood, for a few months) and yoga was as foreign to me as moonwalking. I remember my mum doing yoga in the 70s when I was a kid, and my dad not liking it, thinking it was some sort of cult. Now my mother wasn’t by any means a hippie, or part of the countercultural revolution, but she did wear a poncho, and took up yoga for a bit there.
Aside from Kerry Anne, before she did a Yoga for Geeks class, I was probably the only woman on the west coast who hadn’t at least tried yoga. But I was pregnant and unemployed, and thought prenatal yoga would be a good thing. And it was, but I never went back. Who has the time, what with an infant and a two-year-old, and then later full time grad studies plus part time teaching assistant job?
Now, I’m more in the west coast groove – I drink fair trade organic coffee (but not Starbucks), and I sometimes visit nature. (I still don’t own a raincoat and I refuse to succomb to the seemingly dominant MEC fashion trend – I consider these to be endearing quirks. You know what they say – you can take the girl out of Southwestern Ontario…) And, more importantly, I have the time! My kids go to sleep fairly easily, and stay asleep. Combine this with a yoga studio, Unity Yoga Tea House, opening up at the top of my street, and I can nip out for an 8pm class without much fuss.
OK, so, the logistics of possibility aside, why yoga, why now, you might ask? It’s that balance thing I’ve been carping about. I work out on a regular basis and am fairly fit. This keeps my body healthy, and able to fight the illnesses that typically come with stress. I rarely get sick. But it’s a fast paced, high energy, unreflexive process; the physical stress dissipates but the mental/emotional stress remains. Sometimes I feel like it’s too much, that something has to give. But I’m stubborn, and will get this damn PhD if it kills me.
That said, I don’t want to be an absent (or crazy) mother, be a crappy teacher, or produce sub par work. It’s been obvious for a while I need some (more) tools to deal. I’ve been thinking one yoga class a week will allow me a peaceful, quiet time to focus, to contemplate my physical self. I think practicing yoga will help me achieve emotional and mental balance through close attention to my body, identifying where I’m holding tension and releasing it through stretching and strength training.
Unity Yoga is lovely – warm, calm and welcoming. I sat on one of the mats, which were arranged in a star shape, painfully aware of my lack of Lululemon attire. One of the women already seated chatted me up as we waited for the instructor. She asked me where I “practiced”. I had to laugh; if you knew me, you’d understand. I admitted I didn’t practice at all, that I was just here to try it out. The class was led by Sue, one of the owners. It was Vinyasa yoga, which meant nothing to me at the time. All I knew was that it was hard – lots of deep stretches and balancing and legs in the air. But it was great; afterward, I felt uplifted, calm, at peace with my body. I think this will be a good thing. I’m going to buy a membership.