Yoga Changed My Life, And How it Can Change Yours

April 24, 2020

Okay, I will be honest. I wasn’t a fan of yoga 13 years ago. Now, I’m a certified instructor working on my practice almost every single day. How does that kind of transformation happen?

My story is not unique. When I talk to the students in my classes, or when I listen to conversations at my boxing gym, I hear a lot of the same expressions I used to think and feel. Yoga is hard. Yoga is confusing. I can’t ever be that good. For years, I had similar perceptions; while I lived in Paris, I always felt that yoga was just a cult of gurus using their power to lure innocent people in.

Rest assured, yoga is not a cult. I can personally attest to that. But it is a personal journey that is shared with others. It really is about feeling energies, opening up your senses, and in many ways finding connections to the world around us. Not just the world, and not just other yogis practicing with us – but connections to ourselves as well. Understanding this – and really feeling it – changed my life.

It was a rough start.

I know I’m not alone in my original confusion and dislike of yoga. If you’re reading this, you’ve probably had similar reservations. Despite the resistance, most people get pulled into it somehow with words that sound like this, “Just give it a try, just once. You will love it.”

Those are more or less the words I heard from one of my friends. I was pregnant at the time, and she suggested I do yoga so I could sleep better and relax. The baby would love it too, she said.

Neither of us loved it.

In fact, I hated it even more than I had originally thought. Unable to relax, I felt self-conscious about the postures. My body felt resistant and stiff. It was 8 am in the morning and I was just plain tired. It felt defeating. After getting such high hopes, my disappointment brought me crashing down. I had no intention of trying again.

But I did. It was much later, enough time had passed to numb and soothe the negative experience I had long ago. I was in the middle of kickboxing training when one of my co-coaches invited me to join her at her favorite studio, Be One Yoga in Kirkland. Her enthusiasm pulled me in despite some skepticism and reservations. I gave it another shot.

Then, I Discovered the Love.

Well, not love at first. I really liked my first experience at Be One Yoga. The warmth of the studio helped my body loosen up; maybe not being pregnant made a difference too. In any case, I felt more flexible, more confident to move with the postures. Dripping sweat, I stayed after class to relax and just breathe in the moment. I left with a smile and a resolute commitment to practice more frequently.

But I didn’t. My agenda didn’t line up with my colleague’s and I wasn’t quite ready to go alone. I could have, but that first experience was built on a bond of friendship. It was a reassurance in doing something together, for better or worse. 

My real loves were boxing and kickboxing, where high-intensity movement and impact allowed me to de-stress and find peace. It surprised me one day, in the middle of my training, to realize that I was missing something. I found myself remembering that zen feeling at the end of class, and the smile on my face as I left the studio. When I got home that night, I did a quick search online and found a hot yoga studio near my home with really high reviews, Ashram Yoga. I had enjoyed the warmth of the Be One Yoga studio, so I assumed a hot studio would be even better.

When I arrived, I met the instructor, Claudia. Her beauty stunned me, not because of her tall, fit appearance, but because she projected such positive energy into the universe. I could feel it radiating from her. She was like a dream, a model yogi, and her reassurance made me believe I was in the right place.

Until I thought I was going to die.

OMG! I thought I was going to die in that room. As they crank up the temperature, you start to wonder if this is how it feels in Hell. They ask you not to leave the room for two reasons. One, it lets the heat out and impacts the practice of others. Two, it is good for your body to try to cope and adapt to the heat. It’s part of the process.

But I was loosing it, and my body was not trying to cope! My brain felt dazed as I watched others move through the postures. How were they not collapsing? Was anyone else suffocating? I couldn’t breathe, and I began to panic. I ran out of the room as fast as I could, and the fresh air outside the studio hit me like a frigid tidal wave. Cold air flowed into my lungs, and I savored it.

And somehow, I found myself smiling again. I had discovered a new side of the yoga experience. Not just heat or posture, but the challenge of it. The personal contest and journey with myself. I had the kind of revelation that hits you when a new passion is discovered: how have I been missing out on this all my life?

When I rejoined the studio and tried again, I had a different perspective. Why was I panicking? Why is keeping the posture for a minute such a challenge? Why is something as simple as breathing such a struggle? All of these questions became motivation. They became exploration and self-discovery. I knew I wouldn’t die in this room. Instead, I signed up for a membership.

The addiction grew. I began doing yoga three times a week, and I could notice the improvements. Not only could I stay in the room without having a panic attack, but I could breathe with sure confidence. I knew what to expect, even if my postures needed work and I felt sore every time. I was improving. I was getting better each and every day.

I began to look to others.

Throughout my practice, I always watched the others in the studio. Their flexibility amazed me. Their movements were soft and controlled. I imagined their breathing as something effortless, even while I struggled and gasped. I wondered how long it took them to improve their practice, to reach such levels of apparent mastery.

I am naturally competitive. You don’t get into boxing and kickboxing (or fashion design) without that edge. So naturally, I wanted to improve in my yoga practice too. I wanted to excel. I paid close attention to the cues from the instructor, despite the very real struggle as a French woman learning anatomy and Sanskrit terms! But after months and months, I began to see the changes.

My flexibility improved. My breathing – what I now knew to be Ujjayi breathing – was more controlled. Everything was softer, more fluid. My face relaxed and I smiled more, even as I moved through the postures. It was a sensation of weightlessness, like floating on air.

This calmness spread beyond the studio into my life. My body felt good, in perfect symbiosis with my mind. There were still inversions and poses I struggled with; there were still occasional fears I would break something or fail horribly by falling on my face. But with fear came progress. I began to focus my mission on balance – balance within my poses and postures, as well as in my life.

I looked for ways to pay it forward.

I was over a year into my own journey when my personal passion became a greater opportunity. One of the coaches asked me if I would be interested in participating in the teacher training.

WHAT? Me?? I wanted to dive right in so badly, but I had initial doubts. Could I really be the one leading a class? Could I be good enough with my own practice to help shape others? On top of these reservations, I worried about price and the time commitment. Would I put money into my passion, only to find disappointment at the end?

Reflecting on the journey that had brought me to this moment, I knew I had only one path forward. My practice had lead me to this decision. When I looked back on my doubts and struggles, it occurred to me, who could better connect to a struggling student than I could? I dove in and started the most difficult training I’ve ever undertaken.

Every weekend, yoga. Daily during the week, yoga. Sometimes even after boxing or kickboxing, I’d find myself doing more yoga. I studied different methods like vinyasa and bikram. I worked through the requirements of meditation where everything around me disappeared, leaving a beautiful silence with just myself and my breathing. My body was connecting with the universe around me, lifting up and leaving the floor and the studio behind. When I’d come back to Earth, I felt light and calm. It was unreal.

This training showed me the truth at the heart of yoga, the integration into daily life. The world may not have changed, but how I experienced it did. My vision and senses opened up; I found connections among living things and objects all around me. I discovered more about who I am, what I’m made of, and where I’m going. It became a pool of positive energy filling me up, and I can only thing back to the positive vibes I felt from Claudia that first day, when I felt so far from understanding what yoga was all about.

I’ve always felt my creativity as an expression of connection to others. It’s why I love my work in fashion design, and why I coach the physically demanding sports of boxing and kickboxing. I channeled this expression in my yoga practice, the desire to give back to others and open my heart in new ways. If anyone else out there was feeling like I once did, struggling and scared, unsure of themselves, I could help. I could help them find their own path to their own happiness. That is the truth of yoga.

Looking ahead to what’s next.

When  I teach yoga today, I focus on the how and why. The strength, the peace, and the spiritual connection cannot be forced on anyone; but they can be found by those who understand why they matter and how to reach them. It is about discovery, and building connections between the mind, the body, and the breath flowing through them both.

In many ways, yoga is about self-care. It is about listening to your body and understanding what it is saying. When I teach my classes once a day at Gen Zen Yoga in Bellevue, it is about being present with my class, providing an example, and offering guidance. In yoga, we open ourselves up, both giving ourselves and receiving the energies of something greater than any one of us. It is magical yet grounding; solitary yet connected; impossibly hard yet inherently softening.

When I began my journey, I was not seeking this. I didn’t even know what this was. I think back again to my time in Paris, when I associated yoga with these crazy gurus who peddled enlightenment like a drug. It would be wrong to say my journey was always heading to where I am now, but it would be equally wrong to say it wasn’t. I just didn’t know it at the time. In every moment, I made a decision based on what I needed at that time, and yoga had something to offer. From physical challenge to deeper connections, to extending my practice and sharing with others, the thread from start to finish is singular: purpose.

Whether your purpose is physical, spiritual, curiosity-driven, or if you are being dragged along by a friend, welcome. Welcome to the practice. Take a breath, be open to something new, and feel it as an experience. You won’t be disappointed.

If you are more interested in a practical discussion of the benefits of yoga, this article is extremely helpful. And if you have specific questions for me, do not hesitate to reach out. I look forward to connecting with you.

Namaste