Today marks my one year yogaversary. I had taken a few yoga classes here and there throughout my adult life, but last April I decided to make a commitment to my body and my mind. I had always been intimidated by yoga, the twisty seemingly gravity defying moves and also the appearance of yoga as a pastime for the wealthy and thin. Yes, some yogis are more experienced and can crow like nobody’s business. And yes, some of my fellow yogis are thin and probably wealthy (studio is located in Back Bay after all) but it is not the exclusive club I once thought it was.
I was surprised to see that first day, and every day since, many other newcomers. I was also pleasantly surprised to notice women and men of all ages, shapes, sizes and backgrounds. I know that not all studios reflect this level of diversity but I feel lucky to have found one that does. The instructors that I have had the pleasure of practicing with have always made me feel good about what I could do and helped me modify what I cannot. I have also found a community of yogis online with bodies like mine and socially conscious approaches to the practice.
As an activist I am constantly trying to change the world. Changing the world takes a LOT of time — the patriarchy is no joke ya’ll. As many activists know, finding time for yourself can be difficult. Making a commitment to yoga has meant making a commitment to me time. A time to reflect on my body, my mind. A moment to just breathe (which I forget to do sometimes). A space to let my body do what it can, no judgement.
I still fall out of poses sometimes and occasionally my mind wanders to the sounds on Boylston Street. But it’s only been a year. Who knows what my body will be able to do a year from now? I can’t wait to find out.