Why I Still Love Yoga After All These Years
“My Why” series, #1
This is the first installment in a series that I’m calling “My Why,” reflecting on why I do the practices that I do in my life. I find it’s through reflection that I learn the most about myself. I hope this sheds some light on why you do what you do as well.
I have been practicing yoga for almost 30 years (it will be 30 years February 2025!). I started at a time in my life when I was newly out of college and finally navigating the world on my own. I felt free and happy for the first time in my life and was finally able to explore what felt right for me.
When I fell into yoga at age 23, I was seeking a “better” body. I was a dancer in New York City at the time and wanted to be stronger, thinner, and more flexible. While yoga did give me that, it also gave me something much more valuable: a positive sense of self.
The beauty of practicing yoga is it’s not just poses on the mat, even though that’s where most people in the West start. I definitely did. What you learn on the mat you then take with you off the mat. These are ideas that keep me practicing yoga, coming back to the mat over and over. They help me lead my life with more kindness and gentleness toward myself and others.
Life is hard, yoga helps me handle the hard more gracefully. And when I’m not graceful, yoga has taught me to forgive myself and treat myself with the same kindness and compassion I use for others.
These are some of the reasons that keep me coming back to the mat:
Listening to my body
Yoga teaches you to focus on the body that you have and work within its limitations. Through practice, I’ve learned to listen to my body and practice according to how it feels on any one day. I may set the intention to do an intense practice, then I get on the mat and realize how tired I am. I have learned not to push through, but instead give my body what it needs.
The mind and body don’t always agree. I still have a voice in my head that tells me I need to practice yoga to lose weight. The voice is quieter than she used to be, and I understand that her voice is not my voice, but echoes of fat-shaming messages I have accumulated through my life.
My yoga practice gives me the opportunity to pause. I can now tell that voice to move along, her opinion is unwanted and untrue. My yoga practice is for me to connect with my body, my mind, and my heart in order to hear my own Internal Wisdom. She tells me that I am enough just as I am and that I am love. I finally believe her.
Stop comparing
This was a big one for me. Coming from an Ivy League education and a dance background, I only knew comparison and competition. In the early days, I used to injure myself frequently trying to do what other people were doing in class, without knowing what I was doing. When I ended up injured, I learned that I don’t need to do what “they” were doing, I have my practice and they have theirs.
Yoga taught me that I don’t need to compare myself to other people. I don’t need to live up to other people’s expectations when I can live up to my own. Whether I can balance on my hands or put my foot behind my head has no bearing on who I am as a person. Some days I can stand on my hands, other days it just doesn’t happen. That doesn’t mean I’m a better or worse person or yogini. I’ve learned to meet myself where I am on any given day.
I have a big heart and create an impact in people’s lives in both big and small ways. I do work that is meaningful to me and I don’t feel the need to prove myself to anyone anymore. Eleanor Roosevelt said, “what other people think of me is none of my business.” Theodore Roosevelt said, “comparison is the thief of joy.” Both of these sayings aim me toward the most peace: focusing on what I think and letting go of everything else.
Work with what you have
Yoga taught me to work with the body that I have, and not the one I wish I had. This helps me as much now as it did when I was in my 20s. When you let go of what you think you “should” be able to do and instead see what your body is capable of, it’s empowering. If you have a “bionic” hip or knee, you won’t have the same range of motion as a biological knee. Knowing and accepting this keeps you from feeling frustrated. Accepting the body that you have allows you to do the best you can, and that’s enough.
I am 52 (almost 53) and I don’t have the body that I did when I was 20, or even 40. I have learned a lot about my body and what it’s capable of while practicing on the mat. I have learned that I am stronger than I think and quite flexible, but that I still have limitations. Certain poses are no longer in my repertoire because they no longer suit my body or my practice, and that’s okay. There are far fewer poses that I struggle with, and far more that I incorporate into my practice frequently because they feel good and give my body what it needs.
My practice is different today than it was even 5 or 10 years ago. Today I focus on strength more than flexibility, and stillness more than movement, although I still love a good flow (as my students will tell you). I purposely slow myself down because for me, it’s easy to move through from a place of avoidance. Finding the pause helps me find myself again.
Value of rest and stillness
As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, I am “expert” at using “busy” as a numbing technique. As someone who has spent most of my early life racing from one thing to the next, I already knew the value of movement. Movement felt good in my body, and as long as I kept moving, I didn’t have to feel.
But stillness also feels good. I didn’t know the value of stillness before yoga, and later, meditation. Stillness allows me to tune into how I feel, and prevents me from using “busy” as a numbing technique. When I stop moving, I have the chance to feel and let my feelings flow.
Growth only happens with awareness, and if you are constantly numb, you are not aware. Stillness creates space for awareness, and it’s through awareness that you learn. Noticing that I feel sad keeps me from trying to eat my feelings; instead I can feel them and let them pass through. Stillness gives me back to myself.
I tend to be a bit of an overachiever (understatement). Being still and giving myself permission to rest allows me to feel fulfilled in everything I do, without running on empty. I have let go of pushing through at all costs. That doesn’t serve anyone in my life, especially not me. Stillness and rest allow me to keep going when I need to, and in a way that doesn’t leave me spent.
And more…
For me, as a yoga instructor and practitioner, yoga is how I live my life, to the best of my ability. I don’t do it perfectly, but I do the best I can. Some days I don’t do everything I set out to do, and rather than shame or criticize myself, I am able to be kind and compassionate in my self-talk. I am much more loving and gentle with myself than I used to be. I have let go of other people’s voices, worries, and ideas about who I “should” be and how I “should” live my life. I try not to “should” all over myself.
Yoga has taught me that life is hard, but that I can handle it. I can do hard things (thank you Glennon Doyle for that phrase). Sometimes things go sideways, but with a pause and some breath, I can get through it. There are days when I do that really well, and other days it’s a shit show. But I keep coming back to the mat, I keep coming back to my breath, and I keep coming back to myself. As long as I don’t let those “shoulds” run my life, I am okay.
My book is out!
My book on the first two limbs of yoga, the Yamas and Niyamas, is now available in both digital and paperback! Living Yoga: One Yoga Teacher’s Journey to Surrender is a compilation of a series of essays I wrote last spring. These essays explore practicing yoga off the mat, and are interwoven with personal stories and experiences. I offer journal prompts and practices to help you take your yoga practice off the mat and into your life. Click the button below to check it out!
