In the times of my greatest struggles yoga has been my dearest friend, intertwining its warm and gentle hands as I have breathed and hiked, foot by foot, along the rocky, uphill path back to myself and life’s purpose for my soul.
I did watch Richard Hittelman on TV when I was five, and later Lilias Folan, but my first real class was at Integral Yoga in NYC in 1978. I could only afford to go several times but the book I acquired at their center was my constant buddy for the next four years. Then I discovered Swami Shantanand at Wainwright House in Rye, NY, where I was a devoted student for a couple of years just prior to beginning my four decades-long adventure of study at Kripalu.
The inner exploration of yoga I began back then was an island shelter of balanced power for me and started with the Hatha postures encouraging my body to express a sense of wholeness and wholesomeness that was largely absent from my dysfunctional family of origin. I could feel connected to a strength of purity and goodness, a power greater than myself as I embodied Mountain, Tree, Eagle, Dancer, Boat, Bow, Bridge, Wheel, and bowed my head to my heart in Yoga Mudra and Head to Knee. The Shavasana, or Corpse, pose and deep relaxation I often experienced at the end of practice allowed me to have a few anxiety-free moments before returning to my battle with the aftermaths of childhood abuse. There was a much-needed first chakra (energy center at the pelvic base) healing beginning in my early practice, including grounding, security, and reclaiming the sacredness of my body.
Every time I practiced yoga some energy shifted in the direction of health and wellness. Even way back then I was bringing the spirit of these magnificent archetypes such as the steadiness and perceptual expanse of Mountain to the overwhelming chaos of my fear, left over from my childhood and evoked by my precarious financial life as a young massage therapist beginning my practice. I wouldn’t have been able to describe it as such back then, but the Spirit in each posture offered up a particular strength or virtue. I could receive the grace of this when I held the posture and let the energy resonate, immersing in sensation. When I released the posture, they were still with me somehow, somewhere inside, a Mountain (stability), Tree (balance), Warrior (courage), etc.
When I came to understand, through therapy and the women’s movement, that I had survived sexual abuse and my nervous system symptoms were related to that and not some harshly judged inherent flaw or genetic mental illness, I had a period of flooding with tremendous grief.
For the first time at age 23, I was compelled to begin every day with an hour-long practice so I could hold this strong wave of emotion that I awakened with each morning. Mats weren’t common yet so I would lie on my towel, engage with my beloved postures and cry. There were also deep emotions of shame that emerged that I had to process, realizing that perhaps the shame was not mine, as it was also becoming known that the culture most frequently blamed the victims in these situations. The shame might rather belong to the people that had violated me. Nevertheless, it had to be felt and released from my being and the postures supported me greatly in holding the process of discharging it. During this time, I developed acne on my face, perhaps my body releasing this shame and the toxins that were dumped on me. I engaged in healing practices including psychotherapy, massage, chiropractic, support groups, shamanic work, etc. My skin healed over time. The postures also became preparation for meditation. Swami taught me that I am the Shining Star of Awareness and Compassion, that dwells between my eyebrows, Ajna Chakra, and this truth allowed me an identity beyond the me who was traumatized. This was a great sixth chakra healing. There were moments in these meditations that I felt a part of Mother Earth and the Heavens, in bliss.
Another time I went very deeply into my practice was 10 years later, to prepare for childbirth. There were very few prenatal classes in 1994 and none that were local to me or at a doable time. I embraced the Goddess as an archetype to hold my pregnancy and childbirth. This posture and my growing relationship to the Goddess were healing for my second (pelvic bowl/emotion/reproduction), third (solar plexus/power) and fourth (heart/love) chakras, which had been wounded by abuse. I developed my own daily prenatal practice based upon encouraging comfort in my ever-changing body and to address what I knew would need support in happening during birth. I focused on breathing techniques to release tension so my worrying mind could get out of the way and let my body do what it had the natural wisdom to do. I focused on stretching around my pelvis which had been tight since I was a child. Open-hearted Warrior postures helped me build strength while allowing my pelvic floor to relax for the passage of my baby. I was able to have a beautiful natural birth, very healing for a woman with my history.
In the 30 years of my daughter’s life, I have taken many deep dives into my practice, including during my divorce from her dad when I embraced Vinyasa and the power of flowing from one posture to the next, to move through life and express (5th chakra) flexibility in the archetypes I embodied with my changing roles as I breathe. Through health issues and battles for accommodations for my daughter’s different abilities I have had to be a strong Warrior at times, a Triangle of strength, the Tree she returns to, and the Eagle that supports the young bird in leaving the nest when she is ready.
In this workshop I hope to share my love of this ancient art and science and how we may all be supported by our Inner Guru, the dispeller of ignorance, as we embrace our multifaceted, archetypal, balanced magnificence through the power of our creative movements and multisensory imaginations, on our sacred journey.