Life As a Tango

Sometimes you get exactly what you need, even when you didn’t know you needed it.

A little less than four months ago, I returned to yoga after a 14-year absence. The mother of one of the kids at my teaching job owns a business here in Seattle called 8 Limbs Yoga. Right before the holiday break, she presented my co-teacher and me with five- visit passes, which we could use at any of the four 8 Limbs studios. I was intrigued. My ex and I used to do yoga classes together long before we had kids, and I went to prenatal yoga classes with each of my pregnancies. There was no particular reason that I stopped yoga. Life simply took me other places. I was excited to investigate this new opportunity that Anne Phyfe Palmer had so generously extended to me. Up until four years ago, I had never experienced any sense of aging in my body. I was an active mom, an avid runner and usually quite energetic. But with the divorce and its attendant difficulties, a weariness moved into my body and seemed to settle there. Trying yoga again felt very right.

My first class was on an overcast Saturday morning in December. I chose a Level I class because it had been so long since I’d done yoga. I had no expectations that day. I just felt curious. The instructor started by having us chant OM together and then began moving us through the asanas or postures. Within about ten minutes, something very interesting happened: My body started a conversation with me. It began with “Thank you.” As we continued through the asanas, so did the dialogue. My body told me what it wanted, what was working and what wasn’t. It hummed when something felt particularly good. Mostly, it kept thanking me again and again and again. I’ve never had that experience of my body before. It was like making a new friend. There was no struggle. No grasping. No right or wrong. No judgment. It was just my body and me in a present moment that happened to be quite delicious. When I left the studio that morning, I had a sense of well being that stayed with me all day.

I kept coming back and with each class, I felt like I was discovering something new. It was if my body and I were on a happy adventure together. I began to observe subtle differences in myself. One of the most immediate was with my breath. As a jazz vocalist, breath is everything. In my rehearsals and on my gigs, I noticed that my capacity and control had improved significantly. I also noticed that my daily water intake practically doubled. My skin tone seemed rosier. But aside from these physical changes, something more significant was also happening. I began to feel an enormous and inexplicable shift in my psyche.

Needless to say, I renewed my pass.

The 8 Limbs studio that I go to is in an old, creaky building in the Capitol Hill neighborhood not too far from where I live. One of the first things one notices when stepping into this place is a palpable sense of intention. The energy is friendly and comfortable. There are two studios on Capitol Hill. The Surya studio is a big space with lots of natural light and large windows that look out over downtown Seattle. This is where I take most of my classes. The other studio-Chandra-is a small, dimly lit room. The first time that I went to a class in Chandra it was night time and lightly snowing out. Walking into Chandra felt like crawling into a womb. It still feels that way. Beautiful environment aside, the thing that truly blows me away about 8 Limbs is the quality of the teachers, who appear to come from a variety of backgrounds and traditions. My goal is to try classes with many of the teachers here, but I’ve already been very inspired by two in particular: Douglas and Megan. Both are obviously quite knowledgeable and both possess a clear reverence for the practice. Under their skilled guidance, I feel free to explore and to challenge myself as much or as little as I want. They create wonderful space for that. Douglas has a gentle sense of humor that can infuse sweet levity during a difficult pose. Megan is amazingly intuitive and very attuned to the cycles of the world around her. At the risk of sounding narcissistic, it always feels that whatever she brings to our class is exactly what I need in that moment. I might also add that  people of all ages, shapes, sizes and ethnicities come to 8 Limbs. Clearly, yoga is for everybody here.

The most meaningful discovery that I’ve made in this process so far has been Flow. In Flow classes-or Vinyasa-we work with the breath and move through the asanas in a fluid sequence or “flow.” As best as I understand it so far, Flow is about connecting to an innate rhythm that exists in each of us. As we align with this rhythm, we tap into a natural ease with our bodies and ourselves. I find this profoundly beneficial. As I realize a deeper sense of flow and grace in my practice, I find a deeper sense of flow and grace in my life. Even in what has been a relatively short period of practice, I feel a difference. My relationship to my boys seems to be more spacious and relaxed. I feel more optimistic and oddly less attached to anything. The world looks friendlier. The other day, a jazz musician whom I respect a lot paid me a compliment. He said: “Your ‘thing’ is gelling, pulling together, spreading out, smoothing over, expanding the boundaries….firing the furnace.” He was talking about my singing. But I think that what he was really picking up on was Flow.

The concept of Flow isn’t exactly new. It’s an idea that has been presented to me through several traditions and in several permutations. However, sometimes a message has to be delivered multiple times before we finally hear it. In this case, my body was an effective messenger. Of course, as the very word “flow” suggests, this experience is fluid and, no doubt, ephemeral. There is no way of knowing what will happen. But what I’m learning so far is that there are lots of answers in the body. The breath alone can unlock any number of mysteries. I can always start there.

When Anne Phyfe gave me the pass to 8 Limbs, little did she know that she was handing me a ticket to the next chapter of my life. I don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t know what’s next for me. And I don’t really have any expectations anymore. I just know that I want to continue exploring yoga. Returning to yoga has given my body and mind a peace and energy that I haven’t felt in many years. Waking up. Opening up.  Flow.