I heard my heart beating. I felt the valves open and close. My pulse was steady. My hands, connected to my arms, wrapped around my waist as my body twisted slightly to one side, stretching my back muscles pleasantly. My body responded easily to the actions I asked of it. I wondered if this was going to help me heal.
You would think that in a room full of thirty or more women, I would feel self conscious. That as I followed the instructions, I would curse my body for being the wrong shape and size, for not understanding how to move into the correct pose. That I would worry that the women around me would be judging me. Thoughts of not being “good enough” crept in a few times, but somehow, every time this happened, the instructor would softly say to the whole room something like “you are worth finding this out”. Yes, I thought, I am worth finding the most comfortable pose.
I was so tense. I am so tense. I found myself clenching my arm muscles, lying in a stiff way. Once I realized this, I slowly allowed my body to relax. “You’re safe here. Relax.” I told myself. And I did. This room was full of women who had stories. I don’t know what they are, but they are all just as valid and real as mine. These women may not have arrived for the same exact reason as I did, but they were all here to heal, relax, and restore.
One of the things the instructor said near the end was “be here now”. I so need to learn how to do that, to genuinely live in the moment. To not jump to the next thing, when the current moment has barely begun. This was my second attempt at trying yoga in my life, and this time, I wasn’t berating my body for how horrible it felt. I felt good. I felt like I could do this. For myself. This practice was very relaxing and we were focusing on breathing and I felt calm. I’m excited to see where yoga will take me in my path towards healing. Maybe this will be a tool to fight Ed. Perhaps this is one of the bigger things I can do to cut through that tough, scaly armor he seems to wear like chain mail, and reduce him down to a tiny version of himself.