Shredding “Shoulds” and Embracing Life

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

Follow The Yoga Diaries on Facebook here.

Name: Katie Boyle
Location: Glasgow, Scotland
Occupation: Forrest Yoga and Yoga Nidra Teacher, Learning Consultant and Writer

Katie Boyle photo1.JPG

“We must be willing to let go of the life we planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us.” The words of the famous American writer, Joseph Campbell, ring in my ears as I sit down to write about my yoga story. Quite simply yoga has shown me a way to let go of the life I thought I had planned and given me the courage to explore a different path.

Until I found yoga I didn’t realise the extent to which my life was dictated by the word “should.” I was a good girl. A perfectionist. A high achiever. I held myself to standards and expectations that often weren’t my own.

Then in my early thirties, life, as it tends to do when you’re heading down the wrong path, took an unexpected turn. The nine-year relationship I was in began to break down. There was a quiet voice within me that started to hint that maybe this relationship wasn’t quite right. How could this be? Surely I was crazy? My partner was the perfect person to marry and have children with. How could I possibly throw all that away?

The more I rejected this whispering voice inside me, the stronger it started to speak. I found myself crying. A lot. I got sickMy body’s way of telling me that I couldn’t continue like this. Life as I knew it was crumbling. I was scared, confused, my heart was breaking. I fought against it until I couldn’t fight anymore and I made the decision to leave.

This wasn’t meant to happen. Surely that “should” have been my path. Shouldn’t it? My hopes and dreams were in tatters. I felt like I had let myself down, and in the process hurt the person I cared most deeply for in the world. The guilt and shame was unbearable.

When there was nowhere else to turn, I turned to yoga. My mat felt like the only place where I could find solace and grounding when everything else was falling apart. Magically, at that point, an opportunity emerged to attend a workshop led by Ana Forrest, the founder of Forrest Yoga. I was new to Forrest Yoga but my body was telling me that there was something powerful about the practice. So, although apprehensive, I jumped at the chance. My heart gave a huge, resounding “yes!

When the student is ready the teacher really does appear. At the workshop Ana Forrest explained that the word “shoulders” has the word “should” in it is because it is the area of the body where we tend to hold all of our responsibilities and burdens. Her words touched me deeply. I could feel the weight of my own “shoulds” bearing down heavily in that area. As Ana coached us to breathe into the areas of tension in our shoulders and relax our necks, I could feel the first layer of “shoulds” beginning to release. Tears of hurt, grief, guilt, and shame started to flow. The relief was immense.


This experience changed everything for me.
 Since then Forrest Yoga has continued to provide me with practical tools to let go of my expectations about how life “should” be and embrace a life that is even richer and more aligned to who I am. It has opened me up, connected me to my spirit, and showed me that there is a different way.

Katie yoga - 02

Through the continuous journey of self-exploration and discovery involved in becoming a Forrest  Yoga and iRest Yoga Nidra teacher, I have learned that the whispering voice within me is the voice of my spirit, my intuition, my heart’s wisdom. My practice has given me a way of connecting to and welcoming that voice rather than being afraid of what it is has to say. I’m learning that I don’t need to follow a path dictated by what I think I “should” be doing just because I’ve reached a certain age or because everyone around me is doing it. This doesn’t mean I don’t value other people’s advice and opinions, but it does mean that rather than blindly following the road most travelled, I get on my mat and ask my body what feels right for me. I don’t need to search outside. All the answers I’m looking for lie within.


When I’m not sure of the path to follow I ground myself through active feet. When I set
 my vision and intentions for life, I focus on my active hands, and it reminds me not to grip too tightly to my plans and expectationsInstead to remain open to the possibilities that life has to offer. These are often much greater than what we thought we wanted in the first place. When I feel disconnected and low in mood, I connect to my deepest breath and do some Forrest Yoga ab workouts. This gets my energy moving and reminds me of how alive I am right now.

It’s not that my path is now a linear, upward trajectory in which yoga provides a miracle cure. Of course I experience challenges. There are times when I still feel confused, uncertain, and fearful of the future. But now I have a way of welcoming in and working with those feelings, rather than pushing them away.

Yoga has allowed me to unravel and accept my story so far. It has also given me a way of taking full authorship of the next chapter. I get to choose how it will unfold. The fact that this chapter involves teaching yoga and helping others to navigate life transitions, while remaining grounded in who they are and what they want, is exhilarating!

Katie Boyle bioKatie is a Forrest Yoga and iRest Yoga Nidra teacher with a passion for sharing the healing power of yoga and helping people connect to feeling in their body. Katie combines her yoga teaching with her role as a Learning Consultant at Insights, an organisation which works with some of the biggest companies in the world to improve the performance of their people, teams, and leaders. Katie’s unique combination of skills in facilitation, coaching, Jungian psychology, yoga, and mindfulness enable her to create powerful development experiences – be it those in the workplace or on the yoga mat. Please follow Katie here:

Website: www.wellbeingwithkatie.com 
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/yogabykatiesarahboyle
Instagram: http://instagram.com/katiesarahboyle

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

Follow The Yoga Diaries on Facebook here.

Advertisements

I Can Take a Compliment

Name: Helen Vostrovsky Holmes
Location: Madbury, NH, USA
Occupation: Mother, swim coach, elementary school aide

Helen Vostrovsky Holmes yoga pic

A woman gave me a compliment today. What I can tell you about this woman is that she is striking, tall, carries herself with intelligence and seems to take herself seriously. We’ve spoken once or twice before and both times I felt compelled to keep it calm and sound thoughtful. I don’t know her name but she is that kind of a woman.

The compliment was given after a particularly good yoga class. Hot yoga. Bikram Yoga. She told me this was the second day in a row that she practiced behind me and she thought my practice was really beautiful and graceful. She emphasized that she thought all my poses were consistently solid and again, beautiful. I know that she knows yoga well enough to give the compliment and also knows that my practice is not perfect. She knows that is not the point. So do I.

I responded with a “Thank You.” Several of them. I made no self-deprecating jokes whatsoever and allowed only one quip about making sure to practice in front of her always. Just the day before, in the first class this woman was behind me, our teacher had told an anecdote about a famous female comedian making the point that as soon as women start to do well at something they tend to self-deprecate. Good point.

I am not a person who has ever been comfortable with my physical presence and since I was about 13 it was clear to me that I missed out on true happiness because my hair is too thin, my thighs too fat, I can only be less than a size 12 when I practice anorexia, and I have a weak chin. I squirm when being checked out by men or women, my husband even, and I absolutely do not enjoy looking at myself. Not in photos. Not in mirrors and definitely not in giant, wall-sized mirrors while standing next to people in tiny clothing that often covers even tinier bendy butts. Or so you would think.

I started practicing Bikram Yoga about three years ago after being inspired by my husband to give it a try. From the very first class – in my awful aqua-colored tankini top and getting dizzy and nauseous through every standing pose – I was transfixed by myself in the mirror. I was shaky, uncoordinated, and out of shape. But in that mirror, I was goddamn BEYONCE wearing that awful aqua-colored tankini top.

Over time I have built up my strength, flexibility and skill through yoga. I think I can hold my own. One thing I have never had to do, though, is improve upon liking what I see in the big mirror. That started on the very first day.  I have no idea if the striking, intelligent woman was being genuine or if she just might be the “pay it forward” type making a point to compliment someone every day. What I took away from that interaction with this woman is that I have been keeping a secret for quite a while. My secret is that I am beautiful – and I believe her.

Helen Vostrovsky Holmes bio photo


Helen Vostrovsky Holmes is a mother of three and devoted to the practice of Bikram Yoga. Please find more from her on her blog www.thoughtsleakingout.blogspot.com and like her Facebook page: Thought Leaker.

 

 

 

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

Want to read more? Check out The Yoga Diaries the book, now available on Amazon. Follow The Yoga Diaries on Facebook here.

How Yoga Helped Me View Pain As a Gift

Name: Natalie Edwards
Location: London, United Kingdom
Occupation: Life Coach and Certified Forrest Yoga Teacher

Natalie Edwards namasteOur pain is a great teacher. It tests our resilience and endurance, something that anyone with an injury, physical limitation or condition has to have in abundance on their journey through life. And that’s really how I’ve learnt to view my scoliosis through yoga. It’s a journey on which I have had to learn to navigate and love my curves, even when they are giving me the most excruciating pain, and learn to listen to the many messages my pain has brought me over the years.

My first memory of back pain was around the time that my parents’ divorce became particularly turbulent. I remember thinking that I was partly responsible for their break-up and the chaos that followed. At the time, I made no connection between shouldering that responsibility and my pain as I was just 12 years old. But over the past few years, every time I’ve been to see a specialist in search of more help with my pain and alignment, the first question they’ve all asked me has been, “Was there something else going on in your life at the time you were diagnosed?”

Once told by osteopaths that my scoliosis was idiopathic and directly related to a growth spurt, I’ve since found out that my condition was congenital, meaning I was born with it. After studying baby pictures with my Rolfer at the time, Jennie Crewdson, and uncovering more trauma after discussing the difficult events of my birth (my mother nearly died in childbirth, I was in an awkward position in the womb for most of her pregnancy, and I was born breech and yanked out into the world with forceps when I should have been born by caesarean), there was no doubt that the scoliosis had been there all along and had gone unnoticed. I experienced a huge amount of sadness, anger, and frustration at this news because I’d only just found out at the age of 30 that I’d had this condition in my body since birth. So why had no one noticed it when I was little? But something I had to begin to do was start to learn to love my spine rather than continue to get frustrated by it, whatever new information I found out. To appreciate it and accept it for the way it was meant using it as a guide and a gift rather than fighting with it or continually looking for someone to ‘make me straight,’ and although it’s still a work in progress, my yoga practice has helped me achieve this.

I let my scoliosis define who I was for a long time. It was almost as if it was the main facet of my personality. For years, I was living in that same constrained, frustrated, and hyper-vigilant state that I entered the world in as a baby. I was often scared to participate in things or worried that certain movements would aggravate my back, and I was even told to avoid yoga when I was younger, becoming more and more frustrated and locked in my body and for many years using drugs and alcohol to numb that frustration out even more. But slowly, I began to become aware that my violent internal negativity towards my spine then in turn made the physical pain worse, and from no one did I learn this more truthfully than from my teacher Ana Forrest.

Natalie Edwards arm balanceBefore my teacher training, I hadn’t realised how much I had been ignoring myself and treating myself in such a disrespectful way. I had become an expert in not only suppressing my daily physical pain and a huge emotional backlog of crap and trauma that I had exhaustively tried to submerge with drugs, partying, a job I hated, and pretending to be someone I wasn’t, but also in the self-deprecating way I had been talking to myself for years. I was the queen of apologising for not being good enough, not being strong enough, and not being worthy enough.

I discovered Forrest Yoga via one of my first teachers, Charlotte Speller. She made me realise that my scoliosis was a gift rather than a curse and suggested that I use it to help other sufferers. Even at that stage I was still making assumptions that having scoliosis meant that I couldn’t take on big physical challenges. During my training, something that came up for me that I wasn’t expecting was anger. I’d had no idea how angry I’d been at being in pain all those years and part of me was angry that I hadn’t been able to articulate that pain when I was younger or express how it had left me feeling on an emotional level. I was also angry with myself for abusing my body the way I had up until I’d discovered yoga and how to feel again. Ana Forrest’s teachings helped me begin to explore that anger and made me realise that if you’re fully committed to healing yourself and coming face to face with your dark side, anything is possible.

Her focus on relaxing the neck instead of holding it up was like a coming home for me. Until my first Forrest class I’d had no idea how much habitual tension I’d been holding in my neck, the point in my body where the second curve is most visible. One day Ana whispered, whilst tractioning my neck, “she needs to relax; she doesn’t have to carry everyone else’s problems anymore.” Studying Forrest Yoga also helped me to realise that scoliosis is not just about the spine. When we’re having a bad pain day, we tend to pour all of our frustrated and hateful energy into that one area, but our body is a whole and we need to work with it that way. And so I was completely unaware of the tension I had been carrying in my hips and jaw until beginning a yoga practice. Now, keeping my hips open and supple is essential to managing my back pain, as well as doing regular backbends, which is something I didn’t think my body could ever do or was even ‘allowed’ to do after being told to avoid them. Ana’s intelligent sequencing showed me how to move into them safely and now they are one of the most therapeutic, rejuvenating, and loving things I can do for my spine.

Through Forrest Yoga I’ve learnt to heal parts of myself that I didn’t know were broken, emotionally and physically. But most importantly of all, Ana taught me how to reconnect with and heal my broken heart. My lack of love for myself ran deeper than just my disgust with my spineit was in my very core, and I had forgotten how to be kind to myself and be grateful for my body. I now have a toolbox that has helped me to re-frame and manage pain and I’ll be forever thankful to Ana for that.

Whilst away on my training, Ana held a signing for her book, Fierce Medicine. Inside my copy she wrote, “Dear Natalie, navigate the curves with awe and fascination.” I invite anyone with scoliosis, or anyone who is experiencing and being limited by any kind of pain, to do the same.

Natalie Edwards bioNatalie Edwards is a transformational coach and Forrest Yoga teacher. She specialises in working with women with the same negative body image issues and feelings of low self-worth which held her back in her life and career for many years. Fascinated by the body-mind connection, through powerful mindfulness, yoga, meditation, and health coaching, she helps people reconnect to their bodies, uncover the hidden parts of themselves, and come back to a more inspired and truthful way of living. You can find out more about Natalie at www.natedwards.co.uk.

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/nataliecatherineedwards?ref=hl
Twitter – https://twitter.com/NataliecEdwards
YouTube – https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCI_Avs5iIkzbdQApFPYNlAQ

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

Want to read more? Check out The Yoga Diaries the book, now available on Amazon. Follow The Yoga Diaries on Facebook here.

 

I Ain’t No Expert…

Name: Emma Todd
Location: Sunshine Coast, Australia
Occupation: Artist, Mama and Student

Emma Todd raysMy new neighbour is a yoga teacher, “or almost,” she says, with laughter shining from her being. I could not only see the sound, but I could feel it in every atom of me, the moment she threw her head back and laughed. Looking back I realise that was when I was first hit by her invisible positive power … her yoga rays. I’ve been infected ever since that moment.

Not that I’m any stranger to yoga. For over 20 years now, I’ve been a haphazard practitioner of Sun Salutations and other asanas featured in magazines I’ve happened to flick through in various waiting rooms. These gorgeous, glossy pages would magically find their way into my bag and have become a little worn and creased and faded, like me. The pages remained in my possession like talismans even though the asanas are memorised by my body and soul. Extended periods of disciplined practice, when I swore to yoga like a new love that this could and would not ever end (because it felt so darn good), were followed by long bouts of yoga droughts where the only practices were hedonism and procrastination in all things. Eventually, with a flabby mind, I shyly hobbled or skulked back to my mat and breathed through each position with love and acceptance and surrender—and always, yes always, within a day or two, I wondered where on this Earth I’d been.

Something mysterious happens the moment I step onto my mat, even when I feel a little tired or uninspired. But every time I finish, I am awake, renewed, and present again. Perhaps the times when yoga disappears from my life in the physical form are just as important and necessary as when it is present, like yin and yang, light and shade, sweet and sour. I can never appreciate something fully till it disappears; I can never see something properly when it’s always the same. Balance has been a dance on a tightrope, filled with high drama, danger, and safety at some point off in the distance. If only I could get there. I’ve come to long for some gentle and sustained harmony, just as I begin to redefine what freedom is.

Emma Todd balanceSo I guess I don’t know all there is about yoga, and I don’t profess to be an expert or highly skilled at it—but with the likelihood of sounding very, very corny, it makes me want to be a better person.

When I’m breathing, I’m alive. Once I begin yoga again after a hiatus, I realise it’s like I haven’t been breathing at all.

When I was told that I had to stop yoga for a period after surgery on my eye, suddenly, despite being sloth-like in mind and body, I was deeply alarmed that I would never be able to do downward dog again. My, did I protest too much. The idea that I may never practice yoga again EVER was inconceivable. I realised how profoundly important yoga is to me and that I needed it in my life.

I guess yoga hasn’t really transformed me. It is transforming me continually, and as time passes and years come and go, I want to embrace yoga more and more. As this slow-moving journey continues, I find I want to go deeper and deeper, not through knowledge gained, but through the greater freeing of my mind—freedom through the physical expression of my body, freedom of my soul through the return to my body, to the return of being present, here and now. Freedom, always, freedom.

A life spent roaming, often fleeing darkness, the promise of hope somewhere new, this time starting over, again and again. The profound dream once had of horses galloping across a broad, unfolding terrain, feeling the earth creating itself, rumbling up through my bare feet, my heart beating hard and fast; feeling the pounding of the earth as the hooves of a hundred brumbies spill out across that wild terrain, mains flying and nostrils flared, getting closer and closer, my ridiculous joy rising with the chorus of their galloping and I long to run with them. I ache to join them running through this place, this world being born, and everything reaches a crescendo of bliss as I experience the beauty of freedom.

“This is freedom,” my soul says, throwing her horse head back and laughing as she runs, her mane flying like kites and I know this is it.

And I don’t know why, but I turn my back on this magnificent scene, and hop into a black plastic garbage bag, with a rectangle cut out for my eyes to see only the clouds in the sky, and I begin to suffocate.

The dream has haunted me. Full of unparalleled bliss and profundity, and a sour ending where I choose to rob myself of breath, I have tried ever since to avoid suffocation, only to seemingly meet my destiny on the path I choose to avoid it. Yet yoga is the path I consciously take now to walk, dance, run in any way to freedom, and it has come from being still and breathing deeply. And it is here I find myself, each day now, breathing, nostrils flaring as I arch my head back and my hair falls down my back and I search for that place in my dream, and occasionally I think I glimpse it.

I choose to hop out of that plastic bag and run with all the wild horses.

 

Emma Todd bio photoEmma Todd lives with her daughter near the ocean where every sense is magnified. Although flirting non-committally with yoga since she was a teenager, last year saw her having to confront her eye health head on and undergo major eye surgery to attempt to stop further loss of sight. A bridge she never wished to cross, ultimately it has been a beautiful awakening that has set her firmly on the path of continuing self-awareness and taking care of her health and well-being. Yoga is now an established part of Emma’s work-in-progress life. Emma is dedicating herself now to her art, wishing to “inspire creatively and be creatively inspired,” as well as commencing the journey to become a Hawaiian Massage practitioner this year. You can find Emma and her art here: https://www.facebook.com/boheme.em.

 

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

Want to read more? Check out The Yoga Diaries the book, now available on Amazon. Follow The Yoga Diaries on Facebook here.

The Yoga Diaries – the Book!

Final book simulationSix years ago I was living in Los Angeles during the darkest time of my life. In an act of desperation, I walked into a yoga studio. That single act changed the entire course of my life. Over the years that followed, the yoga practice proceeded to transform my mind, body, and spirit, on every level. Profound healing occurred. Forces aligned. Synchronicity abounded. Soul brothers and sisters showed up on the same path, and I began to witness powerful transformations occurring all around me. I quickly began to see the undeniable– that yoga changes lives; that yoga has the power to heal so much human pain and suffering; that yoga brings magical connection and serendipity into our lives. I knew this was a message that I needed to spread. I knew that I needed to help others to heal and transform their own lives. I knew this was my mission. And so began a labor of love …

I am so thrilled to announce the publication of The Yoga Diaries. The Yoga Diaries brings together 30 diverse yogis, of all ages and from all walks of life, to share their stories of transformation through yoga: stories of physical and emotional healing; stories of overcoming great adversity; stories of finding one’s true purpose; stories of breathtaking, alchemical soul transformations.

The personal and inspiring stories of the brave yogis within these pages will convince you that yoga is a practice for anyone … for everyone.

Available now on Amazon.

I am immensely proud of and thankful for these brave spiritual warriors for having the courage to share their beautiful stories: B Grace Bullock, Jean Merlen, Gitte Lindgaard, Katherine Girotti, Sara Curry, Barry Hurchalla, Elizabite McGlinchey, Alexander Litvak, Alli Banks, Amber Shumake, Maiga Milbourne, Rachel Wolfe, Bridget Boland, Heather Mitchell Jefferson, Erin Lee, Colleen Millen, Desiree Rumbaugh, Rebecca Butler, Julie Peoples-Clark, Natalia Chaparro, J Brown Yoga, Krissie Penney, Ina Sahaja, Paulina Julián Colin, Nick Montoya, Ashley Herzberger, Candice Garrett, Bridget Lyons, Dagmar Spremberg.

May their stories and their inner light shine out and inspire people all over the world!

And may you be inspired to begin your own journeys towards healing …

 

Cover design by Gibran Julian.

Finding Balance After a Stroke

Name: Barry Hurchalla
Location: Florida Treasure Coast
Occupation: Retired auctioneer and antique dealer

Barry Hurchalla Warrior 2My story began in 2009. I was 65, recently retired, and in good health – until I wasn’t. I was always a ‘sometimes’ runner, biker, hiker, and tennis player, but I started to notice my belly expanding. No, not a beer gut; turns out it was fluid accumulation from my liver not working the way it should. It was a genetic thing. I won the lottery: Two mutant genes triggering a protein deficiency. Goodbye, liver!

I’ll skip the details about my long illness and resulting surgery, but I have to call out the wonderful doctors and nurses at New York Presbyterian Hospital. They wouldn’t let me die, in spite of the many times I emotionally gave up. I also met a great guy, a Buddhist monk from the Zen Center for Contemplative Care, who helped me keep it all together at the hospital. And of course thanks to you, elderly man in Georgia, for becoming an organ donor.

In December 2009, I set out with my new liver. By that time, I had been in and out of the hospital since October. I spent another three in the hospital and at rehab, thanks to a post-operative stroke. Finally, in February 2010, I was free. My daughter and her husband welcomed me to their home, without a second thought, to recuperate. But I honestly just wanted to die. I weighed 111 pounds (I’m 5’7”), and I had apparently left my muscles at the hospital. I needed a wheelchair to move more than 20 feet. I couldn’t balance properly; I had vertigo just standing up.

After three months of my daughter Stacy’s whole-food cooking (and my Chinese son-in-law’s home-made favorites), I was able to get around with a walker and, on good days, just a cane. I was freezing my ass off up north at Stacy’s home in New Jersey and just wanted to get back home to Florida.

I made it back home in May, still using a walker and a cane. But unfortunately I wasn’t enjoying my “new” life. I’m a widower and I wasn’t able to do the things I most enjoyed to keep myself occupied. I didn’t have the balance to ride a bike, or the visual acuity to drive a car at normal highway speeds. The stroke had thrown something out of whack. Doctors weren’t sure, but suspected a neurological issue has disrupted my vision.

Then Stacy threw out something new to think about. She had been practicing yoga for several years on and off, and thought I should try a class. We went to her local community center for a family yoga class. We left my cane in the car, so as not to alarm the teacher.  I held Stacy’s arm instead, and we made it to the mat.

I managed the mat work without too much of a problem, but could hardly stand – just no balance there. But I enjoyed being able to move again, even in a limited way, and I also enjoyed the camaraderie of the class. Stacy and I went four times, to different studios, during my visit. I had been embarrassed by my physical limitations and because I seemed older than everyone else there, but the teachers I met were so understanding – a nice feeling. Yoga really is for everyone.

Then I saw an ad for a donation yoga class at my county library. I started going weekly and getting stronger. I met a fellow in that class who was 79. Not an exception – just the closest mat. Classes were mixed: about a third younger people, a third maybe 40-55, and a third old farts like me. A woman in that class told me about another class at a church nearby. Two classes in one week – it seemed like a lot at the time, but I was ready to commit to my practice.

Barry Hurchalla camel poseThere I met Dari, my mentor-to-be, who had been practicing yoga for more than 45 years, a vegetarian for more then 35 of them. I thought she was around my age, but it turned out she was 85 incredibly healthy years old. I started to take notice! You can see where this is going. I practiced my yoga, however weak I was, for the next year, twice a week. I continued to grow stronger. Yoga motivated me to improve my diet; I gave up meat and coffee. Once borderline hypertensive, my blood pressure is now well within a normal range, without medication.

It’s now the summer of 2013, and yoga is a huge part of my life. The doctors and nurses at New York Presbyterian saved my life, and yoga makes it worth living. I’m practicing now almost every day at Living Yoga in Vero Beach, Florida, with Elise Mahovlich and her great group of teachers. Yoga may not give me eternal life, but it will let me enjoy the years that I have left. It helps everyone, the once-a-week people and the regulars. I’ve never heard a discouraging word.

When I finally told my teachers about my medical history, they were amazed at how much I can do. And people who know me have told me how much they’ve noticed changes over the past year – even those who knew nothing about my illness. My doctors feel the same way; my primary physician said, “I’ve never prescribed yoga, but it seems like it’s working for you.”

My balance has greatly improved. The cane is long gone. I can even do bakasana – for 10 seconds, but still – and am working on headstand (salamba sirsasana). I’m considering teacher training next year, to help others like myself who need a hand in healing. Maybe you’re also ill, or overweight, or just getting older – just know that yoga is for you. It’s waiting for you.

I might have limited years left in my life, but they’ll be fun ones, thanks to yoga. It was sunny today in Florida. I drove my Can-Am motorcycle to the farmer’s market then went up to the pool for a few hours. I rode my bike. I went to yoga class. Life is good.

Barry motorcycleBarry Hurchalla is a 68-year-old retired auctioneer and antique dealer living on Florida’s East Coast. He moved there a decade ago from a pre-Revolutionary stone home in Pennsylvania, where he made his living selling and auctioning antiques. A dedicated yogi, he also enjoys biking and fishing.

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

Find The Yoga Diaries™ on Facebook and follow us on Twitter @TheYogaDiaries.

“Lyfe” and Breath

Name: Joy (Kathryn) Lanzerotte, MA, LPC
Location: Prescott/Phoenix, Arizona, USA
Occupation: Licensed Integrative Counseling Psychologist, Yoga Teacher, Public Speaker

Joy anjaneasanaTo breathe prana, life force energy, is all you have to do. For me this was apparent when I embarked on my yogic path 23 years ago. Movement follows breath. I ended every yoga class with “all you have to do is breathe.”

Then my breath was taken from me.

Despite being a healthy vegetarian, avid yogi, and holistic health aficionado, I gasped for breath through a persistent cough. It was July, in Phoenix, Arizona- everyone coughs and gasps, right? Under the care of a naturopathic physician, I had a chest x-ray to rule out pneumonia.

Upon receiving the results of my x-ray, my doctor advised me, “You have a collapsed lung, a pneumothorax. Go straight to the ER.”

I was told to be prepared to spend the night. I was in danger and was not to drive. What? I was trying to comprehend that my breath was hazardous to my health. I entered the ER and waited. The attending doctor, a surgeon, confirmed that my lung was collapsed and had been for at least two and a half months. There was a jelly covering it and my trachea had shifted. He showed me the x-ray.

“How have you survived gasping for air, coughing, and the pain?” he asked, bewildered.

The pain of a collapsed lung was nothing compared to the pain I endured during the insertion of a chest tube. There was not enough morphine, prayer, or meditation that could allow me to escape the invasion of this foreign object into my body. I kept asking, “How can this be? I am not a smoker. I know how to breathe.”

I was admitted to the hospital, to the surgical floor.

Day 2

The doctor informed me that a black spot was discovered on my lung. I became faint. The doctor grabbed a cold cloth for my head.

I have a collapsed lung with a black spot?!!”

The doctor told me that my body would react with sensitivity to all medical attempts to restore my breath. He also said, “One thing IS certain: you know how to breathe. No one walks around with a collapsed lung for two months.”

A second chest x-ray confirmed the black spot. I required surgery. People live with one lung. But apparently not people like me, as I would always live a compromised life. I was given the following options: 1. Go home with a mini chest tube, 2. Go home, take some time, and return to have a chest tube reinserted, or 3. Have surgery to remove the jelly, and hope the lung inflates.

Day 3

Surgery, a flat lung, no breath, chest tube, dry cough. What is the message? It was my first surgery, a major organ, and I was frightened. Surgery was delayed, increasing my anxiety, which worsened as I gasped for breath.

Day 4

The doctor arrived as he did every day. Then he informed me, “You have Valley Fever. You have had it for some time. It invades your immune system, but your knowing how to breathe has prevented you from facing an unbelievably life-threatening illness. Valley Fever can kill.”

The doctor was right, my entire being reacted negatively to the surgery. If things were not grim enough, my body was swollen like a huge Macy’s balloon. I was enormous. My skin was stretched in every direction and when touched, made the sound of Rice Krispies. The medical staff came to view my body, touching my skin to hear it snap, crackle, and pop.  Guided imagery, chanting, meditation… nothing distracted my mind from the sights, sounds, and pain of this horrific disease.

Day 5

The pulmonary specialist, also amazed at the sight of the flattened lung with the jelly, shared the treatment for my illness. It was similar to chemo drug therapy. It would make me sick, disrupting my digestive system. I wanted to heal naturally. My surgeon encouraged me to try a low dose of morphine to allow my body to rest. He said I was fighting for my life with little, if any, reserve.

The days passed but nothing changed. One nurse took her breaks to visit me, to chant and offer me guided imagery. There were more blood tests and x-rays, but nothing changed.

Day 10

My partner contacted a high priestess/minister, seeking guidance. He saw I was giving up, letting go. Unbeknownst to me, they contacted friends, colleagues, and my global email contacts, to partake in a healing ceremony, which was scheduled in two days.

Day 12

Friday, the day of the ceremony, people gathered in my room. They came in silence, leaving items on my bed and flowers- lots of flowers. Before the one o’clock hour, the high priestess leaned into my space and whispered, “Is there anything you want to say, some thing or someone with whom you want to make amends? Anything you wish you had accomplished or completed in this life?” 

“No,” I responded, “if I were meant to finish my book or dissertation I would have.”

Then she asked, “If you live, what do you want?”

“I want to go to Italy to eat and drink as much as I want.”

At the 13th hour, for 13 minutes, the high priestess asked everyone to assist with breathing the breath of life into my lungs, to be held in the Goddess vessel. She asked them to pray, chant, meditate, or give hands on healing to source their higher power. I sat cross-legged in the center of a bed with handrails, supported by tubes, and the breath and prayers of all gathered in spirit.

Silence embraced the room. I was ready to go, to face death. The light was bright and freeing, I felt seven, innocent. My “lyfework” here on earth was complete. The ceremony ended and I was alone.

Day 13

The next morning, another chest x-ray was ordered. Hope waned, the hospital wanted the bed, and my partner was losing patience. We waited. My surgeon arrived to remove the chest tube. He smiled and said, “You are going home, your lung is re-inflated enough to remove this tube.”

Was it a miracle? Did I die? Was I going to breathe without a device?

YES! At four that afternoon, we left the hospital, my home for 12 days. I was not to drive for two months nor fly for three more.

In October of 2006, a pulmonary specialist discharged me from treatment. He said, “Go and live! Go to Italy, fly a plane, do inversions, handstands, regain your life. You have endured the most serious Valley Fever trauma.”

Joy Lanzerotte by treeNOW

I’ve waited almost 13 years to the day to share this story. I have not wanted to relive any part of it nor the challenges. I continue to teach and practice yoga, emphasizing breath, not just asana. I maintain a life-long commitment to holistic health and wellness and never accepted any medication other than herbs and acupuncture.

I have total respect and deep felt love for my naturopath, my cousin, and surgeon who came to my room every day. I am eternally grateful to my goddess high priestess/minister and to all those who gathered around my bed and universally to breathe life into my body, mind, and soul.

Joy Lanzerotte bioJoy is a licensed counseling psychologist, a former university professor and a yoga teacher for over 2 decades, with 4200 hours of training. She has taught throughout the United States, at numerous health spas, and has been one of the teacher trainers at Avalon Yoga and Art in Palo Alto, CA. She was selected by the Arizona Yoga Association as the featured teacher, 2010. Currently she teaches yoga in Phoenix and Prescott, Arizona and nationally. Find Joy on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/LyfeworksByLanzerotte. The business name LYFEWORKS™ was inspired by Joy’s father. Growing up he’d teach her, “Life is work if you live it, but life works if you live it.”  Joy changed the “I” to “Y” because the “Y” represents that YOU are responsible for your choices. 

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

Find The Yoga Diaries™ on Facebook and follow us on Twitter @TheYogaDiaries.

From Postpartum Depression to Yoga

Name: Lindsay Farnworth
Location: Utah, USA
Occupation: Mother

Farnworth and baby17 months ago I gave birth to my first child: a beautiful, blue-eyed little boy with serious eyebrows pulled in toward the bridge of his nose and a scrawny body. As I held him in my arms after a quick but difficult natural birth, I didn’t feel the way I expected. Watching the movies and hearing stories from other women, I thought I would feel this overwhelming attachment and love for my newborn babe. Where was that magic feeling to connect us for eternity?

A few weeks went by and emotions ran high for me. I felt myself tumbling toward a dark chasm and while my fingernails scraped on rock to avoid it, the fall was inevitable, and I found myself tumbling into depression. It wasn’t constant, but every time I felt my feet fall out from under me, I was lost.

And I couldn’t figure out why. My son was healthy. He smiled at me. He knew my voice. He obviously loved me. I loved him too, but it was a love that grew over time. It wasn’t immediate the way everyone says it is.

I learned very quickly that I was experiencing postpartum depression: a very dark, terrible place that I could not escape. I received counseling but refused the meds. Medication is not a bad thing, but I felt this was a journey my soul was crying for me to experience, not to numb.

Every day, I felt the desire to do yoga. I ignored it. Then, a few months into my suffering, I decided I was worth it. I got up early, found a great yoga practice on Hulu, and did it. It was focused on the heartbeat.

My heart felt at peace. The movements were sometimes impossible, especially without a teacher there to help me, but I used the difficulty to challenge myself to be present. I had to focus on where I was at that particular moment. Meditation afterward also brought me to the moment at hand—not thinking about the kitchen that needed to be cleaned or the bottles that needed to be washed. I was just me lying on a sticky mat in the corpse pose, palms facing upward, legs relaxed, feet hanging loosely.

Doing yoga has improved my flexibility. It has made it possible for me to breathe better. Before, I could barely do a moderate hike; this past weekend I hiked twice and only lost my breath once going uphill. My body is changing. Where fat once hung, I can feel muscle peeking through. It is an awesome feeling.

But above all, doing yoga has improved my sense of being. It has healed my broken soul. It’s almost as if yoga and meditation have given me the ability to climb out of the dark chasm and into the blue sky—a sky that matches the color of my son’s eyes. Eyes I adore the way only a mother can.

Lindsay Farnworth yoga matYoga has healed me. The journey is not over yet. In fact, it’s only just begun, but I am getting closer and I will continue to cherish the way the sticky mat embraces my lonely feet.

Lindsay Farnworth bio1Lindsay Farnworth currently lives in Utah with her husband and son. She has a degree in Creative Writing, enjoys gourmet food, cooking as well as eating, and is a novice yogi. She is discovering new ways to enjoy life every day on her blog, http://livingromantically.wordpress.com.


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

Find The Yoga Diaries™ on Facebook and follow us on Twitter @TheYogaDiaries.

A Journey of Remembrance

Name: Natalia Chaparro
Location:
Bogotá, Colombia
Occupation:
Yoga Teacher & Health Coach

Natalia arm balanceThroughout my journey I have encountered amazing teachers, beautiful beings, and challenging situations. Even though at many times it was difficult to perceive, it has all been part of a journey towards my own heart; a path of recognition of the Divine in all of its manifested forms; a process that has been teaching me to dance the full spectrum of life’s rhythms: sometimes joyful, other times melancholic and sad.

Now that I have the chance to reflect on all that has unfolded, I see gratitude arising towards circumstances and people that I used to consider the source of my wounds. I can see that the people and situations that I used to blame were actually the ones who pulled me to this path. Perhaps without the presence of painful experiences I would not have had the need to look for something bigger. “Life shakes us to wake us,” so today I appreciate all of the pain and fear that I experienced in the past.

In order to provide some understanding of how I feel now and the meaning that yoga has in my current life, I will start from the beginning of my story. It could have been different- in the end it does not matter. But my story is yet one more example of what yoga and its magic can do!

When I was born my mother was a flight attendant. She traveled the majority of the time, so I grew up spending most of my time with my father or by myself. I have three brothers and being the only girl I always had a feeling of responsibility: I was clearly the feminine, loving caring figure at home.

Many times I felt (still do) like my mother’s mother, which was somewhat awkward and sometimes difficult. But nevertheless I got used to it and that was how I grew up.

When I was seventeen years old, my parents got divorced. It wasn’t a mutual agreement, nor a peaceful and mature decision. Quite the opposite. To my eyes it seemed a chaotic situation, full of pain, crying, and disrespectful words. At that point I felt like my world was ending. My ground felt shaky and I was really scared! I wanted to be there for both my mother and my father. I felt the need to take care of everyone, except for myself.

Photo by Flickr user h.koppdelaney,

Photo by Flickr user h.koppdelaney,

In reality it probably wasn’t that bad, but at that point my system collapsed. I started having a lot of dark and negative thoughts. For months I spent most of my time sleeping, trying to deny my pain. I remember that I never told my friends or spoke a word to anybody about my feelings. I had a deep desire to die, and my body clearly read the message, so it started executing my orders.

I got very sick. I lost almost 20 pounds and as I would only eat sugar cookies, my pancreas started to fail. I was diagnosed with insulin resistance, which doctors described as a very serious condition. I was so weak that I remember I spent hours lying in my bed, feeling how small I was, how little space I occupied and how much I wanted to completely disappear.

My parents forced me to go to a psychiatrist which didn’t had any impact on me. I just went to listen to her speech without being touched by her words.

One day, one of my aunts, who has been a yogini for a long time, told me about a very nice and wise Swami who was visiting Colombia and she suggested that I meet him. For some reason that I still don’t understand, I agreed and went. I just went with no expectations at all. It was a Kriya Yoga weekend workshop. When I first arrived, the smiling people and the peaceful and joyful ambiance seemed very far from my inner reality. But I stayed anyway.

We did some chanting and a lot of guided pranayama. All of a sudden, something inside of me shifted. It was like a recognition of something, of an inner light. I felt touched by pure love, and for a moment, my sense of isolation and fear vanished. It was as if in my breath, in my silence, and in the pulsation of my heart I could hear the sound of life- the music of creation inviting me to keep being part of it. Everything happened really quickly and I didn’t even have the time to fully process the experience at that moment. I just went back home, but it was evident: something was different. I was seeing everything through a different lens. I suddenly realized that life was beautiful just as it was and that I really wanted to be a part of it.

After that experience I started a very intense and dedicated sadhana (spiritual practice). It was as if my practice was food to my soul. All of the pain, the fear and contraction started to slowly move, allowing me to keep walking with more ease.

My whole system understood that I was safe and so the connections with life became stronger. My insulin resistance improved. Contrary to what I had been told by my doctor, I got well without the use of any medicine other than yoga and healthy food.

In the beginning I thought that yoga would be a solution, some sort of medicine and the answer to all of my questions. Actually I was quite wrong. As one of my teachers says, “yoga does not give any answers, just better questions.” I can actually say that it hasn’t made my process any easier, just more intense and profound.

If you ask me if yoga has changed my life, I would say that not only did it do that, but it continues to do so every day.

Natalia Chaparro hanuman beachEvery time I step onto my mat, there is a new revelation, a new opportunity to experience the embrace of something bigger, the ocean of pure consciousness of which I am part.

My practice is a consistent reminder to embrace life fully- an everyday invitation to be engaged and grounded in the present moment just as it is. It’s not that yoga fixes nor changes my reality. What it shifts is my way of perceiving and being part of that reality. It gives me the tools to face obstacles. What I do on the mat empowers me to take responsibility for myself and most importantly to remember who I really am.

For me, this path of constant awareness has been a journey towards my own true self. Through this journey, I have been able to establish an intimate relationship with every aspect of who I am. My mat has become a sacred space where both my light and shadow get to dance and unfold.

Natalia Chaparro seatedNatalia Chaparro, a native Colombian, began practicing yoga over a decade ago. Her consistent and intensive practice was combined with her veterinary studies, both of which left her motivated by her immense love of animals and her fascination with the magic of the living organism. Upon finishing her veterinary career, she met her yoga teacher B.J. Galvan, who introduced her to the world of Anusara Yoga. Since that time the flow of Grace has brought to her path marvelous beings who have left their mark on her with their powerful teachings. The opportunity to learn and share the light with teachers such as John Friend, Sianna Sherman, Douglas Brooks, Kelly Haas, BJ Galvan y Tulku Tsori Rinpoche, has ignited Natalia’s desire to serve and follow this path of learning. Natalia recently graduated from the Institute of Integrative Nutrition and is now working as a women’s nutrition and health coach. She is currently living in California, where she has been studying Tantra with her teacher Laura Amazzone, and completing her 500-hour teacher training with Noah Maze.

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

Find The Yoga Diaries™ on Facebook and follow us on Twitter @TheYogaDiaries.

The Body I was Born With

Name: Sarah Bretton
Location: Portsmouth, United Kingdom
Occupation: College Lecturer

I have danced all of my life. It was rewarding for a while, but my body suffered greatly: I pushed it beyond my limits and forced it into shapes that were in-organic and painful. I was ok at dancing: I managed to get a scholarship to Laban, a contemporary dance school based in London and then won a competition to study at the Martha Graham School in New York, which was an enriching experience. I am ever grateful for the experiences I had at these schools and respect all those who passed on their knowledge to me. However, once I embarked on the professional dance path after my training, I learned that there is a world of anxieties that come with this otherwise beautiful art form.

I found that there is an unspoken law in the dance world, a law that relies on the performer possessing a variety of certain character traits with which I just couldn’t personally connect: a degree of narcissism and arrogance, to be competitively motivated, and there is an ever present jealousy and ego as well as the obvious critical judgment, both internal and external. The emptiness came quite early on for me. I attended an audition where the choreographer wanted to take a Polaroid of our bodies and faces before learning any movement. A decision was made early on about which body types should go and which should stay. Lots of auditions are like this. They don’t tell you this at dance school.

At dance school I was surrounded by a rich variety in body shape: petite ones, curvy ones, short legs, long torsos, willowy bodies and so on…. But in the real dance world? You must look a certain way to even get through the door. My body wasn’t long enough, lean enough, strong enough, thin enough, pretty enough for this or that choreographer, and I started to feel that my body had let me down. I worked hard and tried to get the right kinds of jobs, but rejection is a difficult thing and I punished myself. The negativity that I had experienced was so toxic that my mind and my body fell out of sync and eventually I began to feel a pull away from dance as my mind told my body that it wasn’t good enough.

My sister moved to Nashville, Tennessee ten years ago and I have been visiting since. Through a friend from dance school, I’d heard of a successful yoga teacher, Carly Mountain, who is based here in Sheffield. Carly suggested that when visiting Nashville, I should visit a studio called Steadfast and True Yoga and to look out for the owner, Gillian St. Clair. Walking into the studio, I felt Gillian’s energy as soon as I entered the room, and I knew from that moment that I wanted to dedicate myself to the practice. I didn’t know what the moves were, the language or the etiquette, but I knew that I felt an overwhelming urge to give, to yield to the mat, and to flow with the energy in the room.

At first, I felt a familiar anxiety, which came from my previous dance training; my body is in space and is waiting to be judged on its performance. However, after stepping onto the mat I realized that the anxiety was fading away as Gillian spoke to the group and said, “Today you are going to work with the body you were born with” …and my whole self just relaxed with peaceful relief. After being told for most of my life that my body wasn’t good enough, someone had finally said that my body was ok! And what’s more, we were going to embrace that individuality. During class she reminded us to be honest with our bodies and if it hurts- to rest, to get to know our bodies and learn to listen to what it needs. She encouraged us to let go of yesterday, to not think about next week, and instead to live in the person we are now and focus our bodies and minds into the present moment, in the harmony of the room.

Gillian taught me to let go of past anxieties and heavy unpleasant experiences. I cried that day. When I left the class I was lighter, happier, and clearer than any other day I have had on this planet. Gillian calls herself a renegade in yoga. Most of her body is adorned in edgy, striking tattoos, she plays an eclectic blend of the music she wants to play, she says sometimes you need to cuss, and other times you should sit and discuss. I found that she had a talent to listen carefully to the energy within the room and to read the metaphysical and physical responses from us and adjust her class accordingly. Gillian was there, she was present and at a time of emptiness within me, it meant the whole world.

Sarah Bretton leapingOver the years I have holidayed to Nashville and every time I bring a friend, or more recently my husband, and take them to a class of Gillian’s. Every one of my friends cried their first time! I don’t think Gillian’s desire is to make you cry! But the guidance that she shares is so intimate and personal that afterwards you feel so much clearer, kinder, and the feeling of being connected to something bigger than yourself, a higher plane of existence….. bodies and minds become released of their tension. Gillian definitely has a gift and I feel completely blessed to have been guided by her.

When I returned to the UK I was a little disappointed with the lack of yoga classes available to me in my area. Most of the classes are taught in gyms with no real guidance or spiritual offerings. I would read the yoga verses alone, but my body urged for something more so I purchased Short Forms by David Swenson and committed to practicing every day in my lounge. Kind yogis have uploaded various video demonstrations of Richard Freeman on YouTube and I have enjoyed practicing his style, but I really missed the energy of other people in the room during my practice. Maybe it’s my disciplined background in dance but I felt that I also missed the guidance of a teacher encouraging me and leading me through.

During one class, Gillian came over to my mat to assist my alignment in tripod position and she said “your body wants to go into headstand” and I thought to myself…“ok! Well I shouldn’t let my mind talk my body out of it.” It’s still a bit shaky but when I did it I felt so happy! My mind and my body united and I was totally blissed out.

I think a lot of people might think that dance lends itself well to yoga as there are similarities in terms of body positions. But as all yogis know, it’s not all about the acrobatics. Yoga definitely made me more symmetrical after years of anatomical abuse but what I gained from yoga, which I never got from dance, was the inner balance. I’m not talking about core strength, I’m talking about inner kindness and positivity; telling yourself that you deserve a healthy energetic body and that it is beautiful in every shape you do, whether it’s in savasana or something complex like scorpion. I don’t feel competitive as I did with dance. I don’t feel I need to compare myself. Obviously I would like to be able to hold my headstand for longer but yoga has taught me breath and patience and for the first time, I’m working with the body I was born with and enjoying its evolution every day.

Sarah Bretton headshot

Sarah Bretton is a 33-year old college lecturer who lives in Portsmouth, South East England. Sarah lives with her husband Paul, pet cat Ripley, and beagle Harper. Sarah will be embarking on the FRYOG foundation course in Yoga this September under the guidance of Victoria Bedford.

 

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

Find The Yoga Diaries™ on Facebook and follow us on Twitter @TheYogaDiaries.