Why can’t I just admit that I like yoga?

So, I actually struggled writing this blog a lot. I think it is because I have not fully accepted the “new me”. Here is an explanation: 

After being immobile for so many years, I clearly still have residual symptoms, and it was a struggle to figure out a new balance between my social life, school, physical activity, work, and writing. The hardest part was, honestly, the physical activity. 

I have what I call a love-hate relationship with yoga. So, let me explain how I became very into yoga and my whole bizarre schtick with it. 

Let’s just dive right in. If you’re super into it. Great. I am too. Kinda?? Idk really know yet. So here’s the story, I did it a few times before I was sick and ABSOLUTELY hated it. It was just too guru-y and, well, what I thought was voodoo. Just so overall NOT ME. I am, well was, more of a fast-paced person. So, I also really did not enjoy the workout aspect of it. 

The only spot left in the studio in my first class was behind three men. How was I supposed to focus on the class when all there was in my view point was hairy, droopy balls hanging in front of me? (ewwww) That was about everything I needed to turn me off to the whole thing. For, well, a very, very, longggg time. 

Since that unfortunate experience 6 years ago, a lot has changed. I have been in 13 hospitals and 3 rehabs, actually I think it’s a few more, but tbh I really don’t feel like going down a bad memory lane right now. 

In one of the rehabs when I was finally gaining my mobility, my normal OT (occupational therapist) was not there. She was on a trip to Thailand. (Not the point but let’s all be envious of her for a minute.) I know I was when I was in the hospital. Point being, I had a different OT that week, who was also a yoga instructor.

She wasn’t just any yoga teacher, she taught GOAT YOGA.  Yes you read that right. GOAT YOGA. Crazy. I can’t imagine laying on a goat and doing child’s pose; what if it starts running AWAY? What happens to you? You flock off? Idk, sounds crazy to me, but that’s just me. But for those of you who do enjoy “this practice” as they say. You do you! The closest that I had come to a “farm” was my sleep away camp growing up. Or the Bronx Zoo. 

Let’s get back to yoga and my point. Because this post is getting long. And, well, I hate reading long things, so why would my writing be any different than anyone else’s? Long story short, my goat yogi/OT got me into yoga because it was more fun than any of the other therapies the hospital would make me do and to be quite frank, so was my favorite tattooed goat yogi. 

When I got out of the hospital, I was walking with a walker. I slowly gained my strength back and am now walking without an aide. For a while, I struggled to find the right workout for me. I started going to a yoga class for the first time since the hospital, and well, it has been helping me a lot physically. It involves a lot of stretching and is a moderate workout. Which is exactly what I need. 

Just to give you the vision: I am that one in the class. You know, the “one” who is always five minutes late, and the only brunette in the class, who is totally groaning under their breath. Which is apparently not what you’re supposed to do in this yogi environment. But idgaf. And I always forget you’re not supposed to wear your shoes in the room. I always get grouchy looks. If that’s the worst I do in life, so be it.

          But here is what’s been rubbing me the wrong way these past few weeks: my family is calling me a yogi in a joking manner. I actually hate that title. Well, all titles in general. I can’t believe I have become one of those people I thought were crazy. Am I becoming one of those guru-y people? 

           If you haven’t realized yet, the point of this post has NOTHING to do with YOGA. It has to do with the judgements we place on things that we never expected would be important to us. Why do I care? It is good for my body, it’s a workout that’s helping me. Who gives a shit?  I am not able to do the upbeat workouts anymore. I need to adjust and be proud of what I can do now. Focus on the good, not the bad. 

 I realized while writing this that maybe it’s me that’s the problem. Nobody else has a problem with me doing yoga but me. My own judgements with yoga. The Meditation aspects of the class. Being with my own thoughts. I think that is one of the hardest things in life to accomplish; to be truly comfortable in your own mind and thoughts. 

If you can “meditate” without resorting back to your past, your past disasters and mistakes, more power to you. Share your secrets baby! Or maybe don’t, I would hate to jinx your LUCK. 

Once I can achieve this TRANQUIL meditative state of mind, I think I will understand the full effects of YOGA. Meditate like what we classify as a somewhat “normal” person. We all have our “things” in life. I guess that happens to be mine; the agony that comes with SILENCE. 

I think it is very important that we all remember that sometimes our worst enemy is ourselves. No one else is putting half the thought that we put into things about our life. Everyone cares about themselves. I’m not trying to say that everyone is selfish, just that no one is paying as close attention to you as you think. So don’t overthink everything. You’re doing amazing. You’re marvelous babbbaaayyyy! Everyone has their shit. EVERYONE! IDK why but yoga brings up mine.

I suppose it is a good thing to step out of our comfort zones, even if it is something you would typically judge doing, because that is how we grow. If we don’t do the things that make us a little anxious or skeeved out, then we don’t have the opportunity to see what we truly enjoy in this lifetime, and we won’t have the chance to thrive in a new environment. I take my own advice, or else I wouldn’t give it. Sometimes it is nice to do things that make you feel a little self conscious at first; you may actually like it in the end. Hey, I like yoga. I may be getting close to loving it.  Just don’t tell anyone that I told you. 🙂