Practicing Yoga Again

I used to be able to do this.

And this.

And a ton of other poses—tricky arm balances and advanced variations—as if they were nothing.

And then I moved.

I knew before I even started packing boxes that leaving Des Moines was going to change my yoga practice. I'd looked and looked at what options were available in L-Town, in Bloomington, in Springfield, anywhere within an hour's drive. And right after I moved, I explored some of these options. I even made repeat visits to a few.

But none of them compared to the yoga practice I got at H(om) in Des Moines (sadly, since closed). Nothing compared to practicing with a teacher who pushed me further than I'd ever been pushed before (and who was probably even more enthusiastic about the strides I made than I was), next to yogis who were some of my best friends and inspirations on and off the mat. Walking the couple of blocks to practice a couple of times a week became one of the highlights of my time in Des Moines—I'd never felt more limber, healthier, happier. My back hadn't felt so good in years.

After the move, I tried to continue practicing on my own. And at the places I ventured to in Springfield and Bloomington. It worked for a while—enough that, when I visited my yogi sister in D.C. and made it to a few classes, I still felt good in my skin. I could keep up. I had it yet.

But then there was winter weather. And basketball games to go to instead. And an unhappy Space Turtle. And so going to yoga fell by the wayside. And somehow I managed to go months—months!—without practicing.

I made it back to my mat (in the middle of our not-so-big kitchen, mind you) a few times recently, and I'm amazed at how much my body has changed in the relatively short time it's been since I practiced regularly. Everything I worked so hard to build up—the strength to stay up in complicated arm balances, the stamina to hold deep poses just one more breath longer than I thought I could've—is all gone. Tonight when I practiced, I felt like I was inhabiting someone else's body. My limbs were stiff even in poses I'd done a hundred times. Bending forward was much more laborious than I remembered. So was backward. And even more so sideways. My ribs felt compacted, as if they were stacked one on top of the other with nothing in between. My spine was crunched together, and I could feel it from the base of my skull all the way to my sacrum. Where I would normally move smoothly from one pose to the next, would flow effortlessly, would immediately go into binds, I found myself wobbling, sticking with the basics, pulling out of poses early. Who is this person? I wondered. When is she going to bring my body back?

At the same time though, I noticed something happening. An awareness of my body returning, even if it was just to point out the cracks and creaks and knots. An awareness of the poses and how my body felt in them. An awareness that wow, just holding Warrior 2, just standing in Mountain Pose, can be intense.

I regret that my yoga practice fell to the wayside in the first place, and I regret that it took this long for me to come back to it. But at the same time, this is good for me. Now, I can spend a couple of times a week in my kitchen, building up the strength I used to have. I can go to yoga classes that, when I first moved, seemed so boring and uninspiring I didn't even want to return. So what if there aren't many arm balances or inversions? I don't need them yet. Not until I figure out what form this new yogi in me might take.