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| Brooke in Virabhadrasana III |
A little over two years ago, I delivered my second son by emergency c-section. Not the birth plan I was going for, instead of basking in the same type of post-baby glow that I had with my firstborn, I found myself physically drained, in a lot of pain, and dependent on others to do even the simplest thing for me. The impact of that experience not only bruised my body, but my emotions. I have struggled with anxiety all my life and the out-of-my-control circumstances of my little man’s entrance into the world kicked it into high gear.
Because exercise would be restricted for a few months, my doctor suggested yoga. I told her I would consider it; but, I was terrified thinking about it. The only other time that I had attempted a formal class was abysmal – I couldn't move as fluidly as the others and I didn't seem to possess the same strength and control over my own body. I looked online for a local class, but kept seeing picture after picture of women who didn't look like me twisted into shapes or balance poses that I could never fathom myself attempting. The closer I got to walking into a studio for a session, the more panicked I became. One day, my internet search brought me to a picture of Joyce, with her personal yoga story detailed next to her photo. I felt an immediate comfort reading the words of her own experiences and realizing that she was a yoga instructor! So, I signed up for class.
My first class concluded with such a sense of relief—not because I had mastered any move at all, but because I felt like I fit there – like we were all in the same boat, heading the same direction. Instead of fat-shaming, Angie and Joyce helped us appreciate the things our bodies could do. Rather than focus on our limitations, they showed us variations of asanas that let everyone participate and grow in their own practice, in their own time. Angie’s gentle admonitions that our version of tree pose was “whatever your body can do today”, and Joyce’s encouragement to try something, because “what's the worst that can happen? If you fall, you don't have far to go,” were perfectly planted and made me love what I could accomplish, rather than focus on what I couldn't. Over the past two years, I went from not being able to do a sit up anymore (cut muscles will do that for you) to being able to balance in crow and support myself in shoulder stand. I vividly remember the first time I felt strong again post-op; and, it was powerful.
But, the strength I gained was not merely physical. Yoga helped me breathe – not just through asanas, but through stresses off the mat. It helped me understand what feeling grounded is like, even in the midst of external annoyances and drama. And, it has increased my confidence to do things I have been historically afraid of. Because of yoga, this year, at 36 years of age, I signed up for swimming lessons! After a lifetime of being terrified of the water, I thought back over my last two years and realized how much richer and stronger I had become and decided, why not? What's the worst that can happen? (And then practiced some pranayama before signing up, because thinking the worst is something I do very well!) But three weeks in, I'm actually swimming – something that I would not have done two years ago. Because pre-Yoga Enlarged Brooke never would have thought she could.
