Back to Bikram: Yikes!

cec00355bd751a860b440eef589b119f

It’s a new year! Yay! Of course this means it’s time to whip myself back into shape. (Let’s all chuckle together)

Ok. Done? Now for some back-story.

If you are unaware of what Bikram Yoga is, it is a type of hatha yoga characterized by a set series of postures and breathing exercises, performed in a room heated to a very high temperature. It’s comprised of 26 postures that usually take about 90 minutes to complete. You do the same postures every time. This allows for you to gauge your progress from session to session. The act of going through this (torture) is called your practice.

If you take a look at my online account, you will see that I have been practicing Bikram since Nov. of 2009. Yup. It looks like I’ve been doing this forever. I should be able to teach it. Nope. If  you take a closer look at my account, you will see that aside from a few months of auto pay at the student rate while I was in grad school, I have usually payed and attended sporadically, maybe a month at a time at the most. First of all, Bikram is expensive, not for for the masses in my opinion, and I AM the masses. $100+ per month means less of lots of other things, but since gas is so cheap now, I feel like I can maybe do it, maybe with just small cuts here and there. Maybe. And also, I applied for pay as you earn for my student loans…but let’s also not think of that because the anxiety is already creeping in. Also, my car is about to die, but dammit I deserve this!!

When I say that I deserve this, it is the part of my brain that remembers how great it feels to be in that room for 90 minutes, my meditation, my workout, my 90 minutes of peace.

e94684e998670145f7469365c042785b

No, the picture above is not me, and no, at my third consecutive day of practice (this time around), I do not feel any of those peaceful feelings…yet. See, when you begin again, it is HARD. I don’t mean hard like zumba hard, or running hard. I mean, OH MY GOD I THINK I MIGHT CRY hard, or, AM I HAVING A HEART ATTACK hard. Also, this time, I am much heavier than I was before. Yoga while chunky is NOT fun. Now wait, I am a body positive person. I think I am sexy at any weight, but now I notice things, like some questionable marketing tools that I’ve seen in the dressing room, like one cartoon of a large person, biggest loser style as motivation to join a challenge. Harmless? Perhaps. Yes, I think I need to be healthier. I was thin and toned and sexy in that way for much of my life, and now my body has changed in ways that sometimes I am not used to, or comfortable with, so back to Bikram. It works for me, but what I’ve noticed, by the cartoon, the postures, and the directions for the postures, is that it REALLY isn’t meant for fluffy people, overweight people, people like me.

So, a posture like the one above, standing separate head to knee pose or Dandayamana – Bibhaktapada – Janushirasana

looks nothing like that when I do it, well because, boobs, and belly. Ouch. It’s like this with several poses. As I struggle and stretch and will my boobs to shrink during a pose, I hear the calm voice of our instructor. “It doesn’t matter how deep into a posture you go, just that you are attempting it the correct way. You are still getting the benefits.” So all is not lost. It may look ugly, but it’s still working, and one of these days, I’ll relive the feeling of peace I remember. After all, I keep coming back for a reason.

This IS for me, and I’ll get there, wherever there is.

I’m happy to report that I have already seen a small bit of progress. Yesterday, I only lay in Savansana once. Yay me! Small victories people.

58e19caffc3a9c6f2105e5ab013fa581

Today, my goal is to not lie down at all. We shall see.

This is my new mantra as I begin again. “It’s never too late. It’s never too bad. You’re never too old or too sick to start from scratch again. ” Let’s see where it takes me this time. Wherever it takes me, it’s always worth it, and so am I.

0f7f9f9e17523bba790473c43c57fcf2

*I am hoping to keep this up, blog posts and all. Hopefully, I will be able to go for more than a month this time. Have your own Bikram story? Feel free to share in the comment section.

Passion

Passion- any strongly felt emotion/intense desire, ardent affection, or enthusiasm
———-

I’m busy, and I like it that way. Once in a while I like the opportunity to kick off my shoes and silence my mind, but there are to do lists zipping by and tasks that beg to be checked off. All the while, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Here’s why.

I choose it. Yep. I do it to myself, and I do it for myself.

A long, long time ago (ok not that long ago, maybe three years, two months, and a few days ago) someone told me she didn’t see that I was passionate about anything. It didn’t seem to matter, that at the time, I was quite passionate about her, just FYI. (See definition)

That sort of hurt. By sort of, I mean it sort of hurt like I imagine getting run over by a car sort of hurts.

You see, I have always thought of myself as a passionate person. Oh yeah, I have the actual word tattooed on my back. Well, it’s a symbol actually, Japanese. I was young, and perhaps it was a bad decision, but you get my point. Don’t judge.

I had always been the girl that never needed pushing. I pushed myself. If there was something new to try I’d do it. I was the girl who did math for fun. I was the girl who practiced the dance till exhaustion cause dancing was amazing, and practiced her violin to relax, because music. I acted, I played, I sang, painted, geez, I wanted to do freaking EVERYTHING, and I did.

Ok. Then college, then grad school, then believing in something, then protests, then voting, then Chicana power, then gay rights, then EVERYTHING! Ehem, passion.

Phew, and here was this woman, standing in front of me, telling me that she didn’t think I was passionate… about anything. Blink…(silence) blink, blink.

The sad part was, she was right, if just for that moment. In all of my ridiculous passion for her, I lost the passion for me, and all the things that mattered most to me. Cliche? Perhaps, but it’s cliche cause it’s a common occurrence that happens to lots of people, which then sends it to the realm of unoriginal cause it is, which
makes it cliche. I’m going in circles here.

So…I went and started being everything I knew I was. Now I’m awesome again. The end.

Not really. But really, after a while, (a long while, consisting of over consumption of alcohol, under consumption of food, and months of over analyzing and reflecting)I realized she wasn’t really talking about me, not the real me. She couldn’t be, and finally, I understood that it didn’t matter that much anyway. What mattered was that she didn’t and couldn’t see me at all. She had no idea who I was or who I wanted to become, and had no interest in finding out.

That brings me to now. Why on earth am I still thinking about this and her and what impact she made blah blah blah. Who cares already?

I do. All of it matters. She was a kind of backhanded motivation after all. Applause. The applause are for me. Whatever the motivation, positive or negative, (and we’ve already seen that it was quite on the negative side of the spectrum) I have fully come back to myself. I am me, the me who pushes herself, who is adventurous, fearless, and fierce. I am who I want to be, and all the tasks on my plate are of my choosing. Now, passion is a conscious choice. It’s where my groove is. It’s my jam. It’s making choices one after another to do the things that matter. It’s me, being fully present in every moment possible. It’s who I’ve always been.

Yeah, so maybe we all need a break sometimes, me included. But for me, I know that break will only be long enough for me to reflect and refuel. Then, it’s up and at ’em. There’s lots of life to be lived, and only so much time to live it. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned about myself in my 37 years, it’s that I’m passionate about life, all of it.

cf875c91c2cc6c83c8c2554371d32600