Yoga Saved Me. More Than Once.

Name: Rebecca Butler
Occupation: Yoga Teacher, Writer & Mother
Location: Fort Worth, Texas, USA

Rebecca Butler crow poseI started practicing yoga right after graduating from college. I was in Austin working at an advertising agency next door to the global headquarters of Whole Foods, where they were offering classes upstairs. I had no idea what to expect. I figured it would be granola and easy. I was shocked when I broke a sweat.

A few years later, I was a runner. My knees were killing me though, so a friend, who
was very fit, suggested that I join her at Bikram yoga. I went. I loved it. The end. I hung up my running shoes and never looked back. Within a yearʼs time, I was modeling for Lake Austin Spa, busting out dancerʼs pose at the waterʼs edge during sunrise.

Iʼd always had really bad female problems – debilitating cramps, extreme moodiness
during PMS, and an irregular cycle. I started noticing that after every class, I would be
miserable with cramps. So I went to the doctor. They did a sonogram and discovered I
had uterine fibroids. The doctor removed them. It was a surprisingly complicated
surgery. During this time, my marriage was suffering. My husband was a little bit older
and he wanted to have children. I was on the fence about children, but we had tried a
couple of times to no avail. After surgery, because of the extent of dissection required to
remove the fibroids, the doctor said, “Letʼs not discuss fertility until you are ready to
really give it a go.”

Photo by Flickr userJLM Photography.

Photo by Flickr user
JLM Photography.

And then, 9/11. Ok, up until this point, I had been partying – i.e. cocaine, marijuana, and booze galore, mixed with live music. And this had been going on for quite some time since, um, basically high school. See, I grew up in a household with a paranoid
schizophrenic sibling hell bent on killing me and not a single parent, or adult for that matter, who wanted to help me as that meant admitting that something was wrong with our seemingly perfect family. So my solution was: act perfect, be perfect, look perfect, make perfect grades, make boys happy, girls mad, and ‘who cares what you want cause youʼre their only hope.’

Drugs made all of this not feel so horrible. So did yoga. But in different ways, although I wasnʼt yet conscious of the difference. However, I did make this comparison often to my friends. Iʼd be standing in line at some concert, chewing my lips off on x, and my friends would ask me why I liked yoga so much. Iʼd say, “Cause itʼs the closest feeling there is to this right here (meaning the drug high) and smile a 1,000 megawatt smile.”

As 9/11 approached, I began an affair with my and my husbandʼs mutual best friend.
This was not something I was proud of, but it was part of my spree of self-destruction
that was necessary for evolution. The result of said affair: getting divorced, fired, and
pregnant.

In early 2002, I was in a new apartment, working at a new job, and starting to build a
new life – one that had depth and meaning. I realized that my pregnancy was a swift kick in the rear, from the Universe, to get it together. I became instantly sober. Up until this point, I had been living my life to make others happy. Becoming pregnant was my chance to do something to make me happy. Once I became pregnant, I realized how much I actually wanted this baby and I realized how much I had been partying to numb the pain of not being able to do something perfectly for once.

During my pregnancy, I practiced prenatal yoga the entire time. I was single, working in corporate America, and pregnant. I was working alongside beautiful married women. We would enter a conference room together. They would be barraged with questions about their pregnancy; I would be ignored. This blew my mind and severely hurt my pride.

Yoga to the rescue!

On my mat, I could shed my tears. On my mat, I could connect to my baby and feel the
serene happiness that I knew was in store for us, even if my father had begrudgingly
asked me, “Who do you think you are? Madonna?!“ upon realizing that I was
proceeding with my pregnancy, even single. On my mat, I was free of fear, free of
sorrow, and full of love.

For six more years, I toiled away in my career. For six more years, I paid the bills and
hired a sitter several times a week so that I could go to yoga. For six more years, I dreamed of quitting my job and becoming a yoga teacher. Then one summer, I went raw. My raw diet combined with my yoga practice yielded some revelations… Namely:

1. What I wanted in life did matter. And what I wanted was to be closer to my family so that I could both give help to my beautiful mother, who was suffering from ALS
(unbeknownst to us), and receive help from my family, as single motherʼs often
need. What I didn’t yet realize was that I also wanted to be closer to the Divine, and
this was the first step.

2. I wanted to teach yoga instead of selling my soul to line someone else’s
pockets; I wanted to stop pimping myself out in an effort to control the power of
the outside world. Little did I know, I was being called to wake up; I was being
called by my soul to create a life of passion and dedicate myself to a vocation
rather than a career.

3. I actually could make this change. It was not as impossible as I’d led myself to
believe. All of those fears that I had allowed to trap me were exactly that – fears. I
vowed to myself that I did not want to live a life based on fear, but rather, one of
love.

And that is where yoga has led me- to a life of love. Iʼm now remarried with a ten-year old boy and a one-year old baby girl. I teach yoga for a living and I write with passion daily.

Rebecca Butler bioRebecca Butler lives in Fort Worth, TX. Here, she fancies herself in a community that is
at the genesis of change. By day, she is a self-proclaimed-intensity-junkie yoga teacher,
serving as the lead teacher at a local donation-based studio known as Karmany Yoga, a
mother, and a wife… By night {when the house sleeps}, she is a writer, a dreamer, and a
poet. Her most meaningful moments are sometimes spent pushing a stroller, listening to
her latest muse {from Dr. Wayne W. Dyer to Caroline Myss}, and picking up poop from a
90-lb silver lab puppy named Gunner. Her mother passed from ALS (Lou Gehrigʼs disease) in early 2012. Through this journey, Rebecca learned more about life, love, and laughter than any book could have possibly taught her. It is in her memory that Rebecca chooses to live each day in Joy… Joy for life – the ups and downs, breaks and bruises, and the glory. Oh, the glory. You can find out more about her teaching & writing at www.rebeccabutleryoga.com.

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Peace Through Strength

Name: Kumari de Silva
Location: Southern Californa, USA
Occuptation: Yoga Teacher, Studio Owner

Photo by Flickr user Alan Cleaver.

In 2007 I discovered that my beloved husband had returned to heavy drug use after an alleged 15-year stint with sobriety. How did I find out? He passed out, high on prescription painkillers, while driving. He hit a telephone pole at 60 miles per hour. Via helicopter, he was airlifted to the closest emergency room, over fifty miles away. The car was totaled.

In the emergency room the doctor asked to speak with me. “Your husband is a drug addict,” she told me.

“No he’s an electrician!” I blurted out in protest.

“He’s a drug addict,” she repeated gently. She asked me if I was a victim of domestic violence.

“From whom,” I wondered. I was completely confused. What I didn’t know could fill a book.

Yes I was a victim, probably always had been one. I just had no idea. For ten days I lived in crazy land while my husband’s cover was fully blown.The emergency room morphine, mixed with the pharmacy already in his blood stream, appeared to have caused permanent changes to his brain function. My former husband is permanently irrational.

Ultimately he walked out on me. Left to cover his debt and unable to get him to sign divorce papers, I was forced to work 70 hours per week. I had one day off every 15 days, occasionally. I wasn’t eating much. Food seemed like such an easy thing to trim from the budget. The culmination of events: i.e. stress, confusion, heartbreak, huge debt, the physical component of my work, plus my age, caused a hairline fracture in my hip. I lost the ability to completely externally rotate my femur on one side and suffered nerve damage in my leg and foot.

Photo by Flickr user Macxbebe.

I had no health insurance. Now I couldn’t get it. Due to my disability I was given fewer and fewer hours at my hourly job, until I could no longer support myself. Well, who could blame them? I couldn’t perform the job. I rented my house and left the state looking for employment, still riddled with chronic pain. Along the road my dog died.

My friend base, all fundamentalist Christians, believed my ex and mostly thought that I was being “mean” when I referred to him as a using addict. The ones who accepted his addiction issues believed that if he prayed to Jesus he would be healed. They continued, albeit inadvertently, to support his addiction. They were not supportive to me. One could say everything was gone: health, savings, friends, dog, home, and job.

I moved into a room in a house with two roommates who did yoga. One had a very strong meditative practice. I learned pranayama before I did asana. The other loved the physical practice. A third friend reminded me of the few poses I had learned growing up. He encouraged me to do them again to strengthen my hip and increase my range of motion. I felt discouraged as he patiently adjusted my alignment. Thank you Shawn for your patience.

When my roommate “J” found out that I was messing around with trikonasana, he drove me to a class with his favorite teacher. I still felt neither here nor there about asana. The class seemed like a “cool kids’ club”. With my injury, I felt like a factory reject. Undaunted, J looked for other yoga classes and took me to the next community, over a 15-mile drive away. I am forever grateful to him for his persistence.

Here I met my first real teacher. “M” was a blend of encouraging, upbeat, authentic and funny. She had a deep understanding of anatomy. She had also had some experience with addicts. She soothed my beat down soul. Every class was small and mixed level. M had a gift, I have rarely seen since, for modifying both up and down to suit all of the people in the room. From the first class I continued to go several times a week, sometimes more than one class in a day. Three months after I met her she suggested that I go to a teacher training at one of the larger studios 50 miles away.

“You could start a whole new career!” She said with an impish smile.

“Who would hire me?” I replied with my tired sense of discouragement. “At my age? How long would be I be able to do it?”

“For the rest of your life,” she assured me. What she said in a quiet and firm voice touched me.

Five months after meeting M I took my first 200-hour training. The same day I signed up, M disappeared! In an uncharacteristic manner she let personal issues overwhelm her. I did not hear from her again for two years. Another shock, another loss. The only thing I knew for sure was that my hip was starting to feel better. In savasana, encouraged to set an intention, I would think to myself “I just want to feel better, please let this pain go away!” I taught myself yoga as I was learning to teach. I was at the studio seven days a week, three hours a day. I built a strong practice that supports me.

My practice includes pranayama, meditation and asana. My students are often coming off of injuries, both physical and mental. They relate to me. I found myself re-entering and yet not re-entering society. Today, I eat well, meditate and practice yoga daily. Yoga is my passion. I learned the hard way that nothing is more valuable than feeling comfortable in your body.

For those of you who would say everything happens for “a reason,” I beg to differ. There is no reason I can understand to choose death and drug addiction. If you are a using addict, I implore you to reconsider. The pain it causes you will end at your death, the pain it causes your loved ones will never end.

Peace through Strength

Namaste!

Kumari de Silva is a mild-mannered yogi and poet who lives in the Los Padres National Forest. She received a BA from the University of Hawaii, Manoa, and a 200-hour teacher training from YogaWorks. Kumari’s work reflects a perspective of re-discovering familiar. “Teach what you know” is good guidance, but even more powerful is to “teach what you know well” and this will allow the heart  to reveal a unique peace infused with universal experiences. Once the peace of yoga creates insight, the body savors recognition. The grace of this delicious mind/body connection transcends time, space, and even culture.

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“Seeing” Through Yoga

Name: Krissie Jane Penney
Location: Yarmouth, Nova Scotia, Canada
Occupation: Massage Therapist, Reflexologist,Yoga Instructor & Owner of “The Lila Centre”

Photo by Flickr user Mokarta Graphic.

I have no other way to describe my childhood or teenage years other than to use the word “lost.” I was brought up in a regular family, in a regular neighborhood and never had to go without. Even at a very young age I did know how fortunate I was in comparison to so many other children. But despite that, I was sad….

About what? Good question. I didn’t like how people were mean to other people, how money seemed to drive people to evil, how people were judged on their appearance, or how everyone around me seemed to accept all of this in almost a defeated way. Why wouldn’t anyone change these things? It seemed so obvious to me what was wrong, how could others not see it?

I can remember the moment I was told who God was. Church was not a part of my childhood nor was religion. My father had lost his father at a very young age and didn’t feel we needed to attend church as he was so angry with religion and God. I was taken to a church by some friends, to a group called awanas, an evening play group where they educated children about the Christian religion. I could not believe what I was being told. These people seemed to have all the answers, at the tender age of eight. But the more I was told the less I believed it. I mean, really – There was a giant wooden boat with every animal on it and everyone in China was going to go to hell? It didn’t seem right at all. So, I gave up on the notion and decided that all religions were some sort of brainwashing cult. In my eyes, they passed judgment on others for no reason, just like the government or teachers in school. I wanted no part of that.

As a teenager I sunk deeper into depression. I suffered from anorexia nervosa, got into drugs and excessive drinking, and even had a couple of suicide attempts. Nothing mattered: not my future, not my parents, nor my friends. I moved out of my parents’ house at age 17 and into a drug house with my at-the-time boyfriend. He was verbally and physically abusive towards me. Every day was a big party. And being in such a state all the time really made me forget what kind of world I was living in. At the time I really thought I was happy.

Photo by Flickr User Vladimir I U L.

One night we were at a friend’s house at a party. I had been drinking and we all decided to indulge in some substance abuse. I had too much. I remember sitting on a couch and thinking, “This is bad, so bad. I think I am actually going to die.” The next thing I knew I was not in my body at all but I was above everyone in the room, looking down. I looked fine, but what was going on? I had this overwhelming feeling that life was a game. And I was losing terribly. The rest of the evening was a blur. I woke up the next morning scared to death. After that moment I just knew there was something more than this world. But what? I mean religion seemed so unbelievable. So I decided to follow the “Krissie” religion. I believed in God but not religion. I didn’t want to be a loser in this giant game. I needed to make myself a better person.

I quit the drugs, which was unbelievably easy after my experience. I applied for university and off I went to the nation’s capital. I was going to show people what I had seen, I was going to open the eyes of the world and help to change it, through journalism and television. People love TV!! I really did love University. I loved Ottawa. Coming from a small town it was such a change and it was so exciting. I did very well in the year at Ottawa University.

One morning I was in lecture hall and I found it a bit difficult to focus on the board. I had to move up to the front. “Bizarre!” I thought to myself. I called my mother and asked her to make an appointment with the eye doctor, as I obviously needed some glasses. I came home and off to the doctor I went. She flicked through the lenses asking, “Better or worse?” over and over. “My goodness this is taking some time,” I thought to myself. She left the room and asked if it would be ok to look into the back of my eyes. She took her light and looked, then left the room again. “Just give me a prescription so I can go home,” I impatiently thought to myself. She returned and asked simply, “Do you have a valid driver’s license?” “Yes,” I replied. “I’m sorry. I’m contacting the DMV and having it suspended immediately. And, I’m sending you to a specialist in the city. There is something wrong.” Shock waves ran through me. I didn’t know what else to even say other than “Ok.”

I saw the specialist not long after. I am legally blind, I will never drive again, never see the overheads again…. So I dropped out of university. I couldn’t hack it without being able to take my notes or see the TV in class. “It’s called Starguardts, very rare, only three people in the province have it. There is no known cure,” the specialist had explained.

Every possible negative feeling ran through me. HATE. I hated everything and everyone. And WHY? Why me? I was trying to be a better person and this is what I get? I went back to drinking, partying and not really caring. I felt sorry for myself and anyone that might have to be around me. I worked in a local restaurant and I met some good people, but nevertheless hated the work. One of the guys I worked with in the kitchen became one of my dearest friends. He was lost like me. He was scared to come out of the closet and I was scared to live. We decided one day to go to a yoga class. I don’t much remember how or why it even came up. But, we went.

Kerry, the teacher, was my lifesaver! I was hooked after the first ten minutes. So was my friend Cory. Kerry was so calm. I left the class feeling like I was alive for the first time in two years. On my mat there was no eye problem, no pressure, no judgment. I was weak back then and had so much difficulty getting into any pose. I really did suffer through the physical part of the class. Savasana, oh Savasana. Meditation came so naturally to me. I found myself in the state I had encountered so long ago on that couch. Being able to see my life from an outside view and detach from the mess of life and take a moment in time to relax and breathe. It wasn’t scary this time, it felt right. We went every week. I just knew I wanted to do this, to teach this to people. This is how I could reach people. This is what I had been seeking for so long.

I went back to school. I became a Massage Therapist, a Reflexologist and finally a Yoga Teacher! My 200-hour Yoga Teacher Training warped my entire life into a great one. I had come a long way but this course was the cherry on top. I overcame my drug problems, my drinking problems, quit smoking, started eating healthy, let go of the unhealthy relationships and negativity around me and most importantly, I embraced myself for who I am. I did this all on my mat, through my asana. There are no words to describe the changes that occur in you once you practice yoga. It happens even if you don’t want it to, even when you think you are going for an exercise.

I know now why I lost my vision. If I had not, I would not be doing what I do today. I have helped people heal in the same ways yoga had helped me. Seven years of people I have helped. I am the owner of The Lila Centre, the first yoga studio to open in my small town of Yarmouth, Nova Scotia. I work with my original teacher Kerry and three other wonderful teachers. I feel lucky, happy and blessed in ways I could never put into words. I love going to work. I am at Peace.

Krissie Jane Penney owns and operates The Lila Wellness Centre and Yoga Studio in Yarmouth, Nova Scotia. She currently practices massage therapy, reflexology and teaches yoga three days a week and loves every moment of her job. Krissie owns her own house, has a wonderfully supportive boyfriend and family, an amazing roommate and two very special fur babies. Words by which Krissie lives, “I Am Legally Blind and I Love Me!” She believes that everyone should feel this way and plans to help to heal people until the day she dies.

Edited by Jeannie Page.

Do you have a story of healing or transformation through yoga? The Yoga Diaries wants to hear it. Click here to submit your story.