Discovering Yoga, Part 2

The Little Yoga Book
By Erika Dillman

(Page 2 of 2)

My second attempt at yoga came a year later, after nearly two years of illness. My condition had become worse, and I'd been forced to quit my job. I spent six months doing nothing but sleeping and worrying that I was dying. Too exhausted and disoriented to drive a car, read, or talk on the phone, I spent most of my days and nights lying on the couch, staring vacantly at the TV. Despite sleeping twelve to fourteen hours a night, taking a two-hour nap after breakfast, and another nap after lunch, I was still too exhausted most days even to shower. My formerly strong, athletic body became weak, atrophied, and emaciated. I had no energy, and I was deeply depressed.

After another few months, anxious to get moving again, I began taking short five-minute walks to the grocery store a couple of times a week. One day I saw a bright pink fIyer on the store bulletin board that advertised “FUN Yoga.” After talking with the teacher on the phone, I felt relieved. She seemed to understand my situation, and her kind voice put me at ease. The class sounded like just what I needed to get started: breathing exercises and stretching and flexibility poses?all at my own pace. This time it was going to be different. I was determined to reconnect with my body, and I knew that if I could do that I could also ease the tension in my mind.

I was still a bit self-conscious when I arrived at class a few days later, but I soon felt that I was in the right place. There were only a handful of people sitting and talking on the floor in a small, dark room, and they all looked pretty normal. No fancy unitards, no mirrors, no solemn faces, just ordinary people in baggy sweats and T-shirts. As we went around the room introducing ourselves, I realized that I wasn't the only beginner or the only person with health problems.

The class lasted an hour, but I ran out of steam after five minutes. I was so frail; every movement sent me into a coughing, choking fit. I spent the rest of the class exhausted and dizzy, resting on my blanket and trying to stay awake.

Within about four months, three women and myself had become the core group of “regulars.” Because the class was small we each received a lot of personal attention, which helped us gain confidence in learning the poses, and we became friends. We lingered after class to talk about our respective health rituals and swap phone numbers for naturopaths, acupuncturists, and massage therapists. I looked forward to the class every week because it was the one time I got out of the house and had some fun.

Unlike in the yoga dictator's class, we laughed as we attempted to twist, bend, and stretch our unwilling bodies into alignment. We whined about doing difficult poses (I used to ask, “Can't we do the yoga of lying down?”), and we often joked that someone should put us, with all of our giggling and imperfections, in a yoga video called “Yoga for Real People.”

By this time I had worked up to doing fifteen minutes of yoga each class before I had to rest, and it took another two or three months before I could last for thirty minutes. Finally, after nine months, my lungs became less sensitive, my breathing improved, and I noticed that I was able to do several of the poses without collapsing.

During this period, I continued to draw my cartoons, and they slowly changed. I no longer drew myself as a cowering victim, although I still sometimes drew myself as a weak, exhausted skinny person. More often, I drew the me I wanted to be: smiling, active, energetic. I started drawing myself doing yoga, socializing with friends, and working at my desk, hoping that my body would someday catch up with my cartoon self.

I also drew because I found in my daily practice that I couldn't always remember the poses I had learned in class. Once I saw a picture, though, my body remembered exactly what to do. The more poses I learned, the more pictures I drew. After time, my yoga practice and my drawing both improved and began to enhance each other.

When I was drawing I started to see new possibilities in how I approached the poses that I was struggling to master in class. And when I was learning a new pose in class, I visualized my cartoon self in the pose so that I would be able to draw it later. This process helped me take a few more steps toward mind-body awareness.

After a year, I was able to last through an entire class, sitting out only a few poses, and practicing at home a couple of days a week for about ten minutes a session. Now, four years later, I attend an hour-long yoga class once a week that emphasizes strength and stamina poses, I practice at home for ten to twenty minutes four or five days a week, and I take my yoga mat with me whenever I travel.

As my yoga practice has improved, my drawings have become more active, more hopeful, and more energized. I draw myself running, practicing more difficult yoga poses, and even swinging upside down on a trapeze.

I am still struggling with my illness. Yoga hasn't cured me of CFIDS, but it has become an important part of my life. It helps me wake up in the morning, get the kinks out of my back after I've been working on my computer, and stay sane until I can run again. I often use yoga breathing exercises during the day to relax and clear my mind when my life gets too hectic.

I've been surprised to learn that many of the physical and mental benefits I got from running, such as stress relief, physical strength, concentration, and a general feeling of well-being, I now get from yoga. I'm much more flexible than I ever was as a runner, which I know will help prevent injuries when I am able to be more active. Most important, yoga has helped me understand the value of balance, patience, and slowing down.

© 1998 by Erika Dillman

About the Author

Erika Dillman is a freelance health, fitness, and sports writer and editor based in Seattle, WA. Her articles have been published in a variety of regional and national publications, including Runner's World, Self, Northwest Health, Hemispheres , Ms., Northwest Runner, The Melpomene Journal, and Women's Sports & Fitness.