When I stepped into my first Bikram yoga class, I knew that one of two things would happen – I would either love it or know very quickly that it was not my thing. I ended up loving it – the pace, the repetition of the postures, the predictability of what was coming next and what I could expect from each class. I saw my body become stronger than I knew it could become, and I felt incredible. I am a mental multitasker, and this was the first time that I could not think about anything else while I was practicing. I was focused on what I was doing in the moment. This is what I thought that yoga would always be for me – an athletic practice that kept my mind in the now. When I stopped going to those classes due to time constraints, I thought that I would end up being able to work it back into my schedule at a later time. That time did not come, and the studio ended up closing.
My daughter started doing yoga YouTube videos at home and I decided, why not? It was worth a shot. It was through those online videos that my view of yoga changed. One day, I went through a practice and at the end in Savasana, resting pose, I started bawling. It was a huge emotional release, but I didn’t understand why that happened, or what my body was trying to tell me at the time. As I continued my at-home practice through the videos, I found that the crying at the end was happening more often than not, and it was only during the final resting pose.
I always thought that yoga was about doing the practice, doing the postures. I committed to doing that every time I stepped on to my mat. And then one day, I stepped on the mat, and I couldn’t follow the practice. I had so many things going on in my life that felt like they were out of my control, and all it took was one posture that I was not familiar with and I lost it. I was frustrated, upset, cried, and begrudgingly forced myself to get it together and try to keep on going. I was focused on the doing and I was going to do it even if I had to do it upset.
The next day I didn’t want to get out of bed much less do a yoga practice. I did get out of bed, because I felt like others were depending on me to be there, and I wanted to be there for them. What I didn’t know is that on that day I would learn and understand what it meant to show up for myself. I stepped on my mat and began a meditation with the class, and then I stayed on my mat. Laying down. The whole, entire time. What I needed was to be in community and still be at rest. My body and my mind needed the rest. The yoga was not about the doing that morning, the yoga was about the being. I gave myself permission to be exactly what I needed at that moment.
I am a doer, and I most likely will continue to be. But yoga is teaching me to be a mindful doer, and reminds me that whether or not I do anything, I am enough as I am.
Through yoga, I am gaining confidence. Confidence that is not dependent on accomplishments or pushing myself to the limit. Confidence that I have the tools that I need to handle what is in front of me, confidence to take up space instead of shrinking. Confidence to see myself and allow myself to be seen as I am – the good, the not so good, and everything in between. Confidence to just be.
Trauma informed yoga is empowering – it has taught me that I can use my breath and movement together to aid in healing from the years of trauma that I have busied myself to avoid facing. The lessons learned through trauma informed yoga transcend the yoga mat into everyday life. I have always wanted to share how yoga has taken a busy mind like mine and given it a safe space to just be. I want to share this gift that I’ve been given with others, and Yoga 4 Change is giving me the opportunity to do that.
Blog written by Kavita Broussard
