What’s On My Mind? By Linda MacNeal
The mind is a terrible thing to waste. When we have thoughts that
don’t support our well-being, and we entertain them, we are wasting
a hugely valuable resource. The mind-body connection has been
scientifically proven many times over. So it’s best to use our
inner dialog to encourage, entertain and support our welfare. My
mental journey at Bikram has been just that, a journey. I’m still
on my way, but have come so far. Here are a few of the thoughts that
have gone through my mind over the years. Welcome to my inner
sanctum…
2008· Phew, it’s crazy hot
in here, why isn’t everyone complaining about this?· Why
doesn’t she turn on the fan? I’m sure she’s a sadist! ·
I’ll just bring in this wash cloth and wipe my face every few
minutes. No one will notice.· I hate all these poses. Who
is this Bikram guy anyway and why did he pick THESE exercises? ·
That girl in the first row has a dynamite figure. If I had her
body, I wouldn’t be doing this!· Half-Moon is impossible.
Yikes, after 10 seconds all the blood has drained out of my arms.
This can’t be right… · “Like a Japanese Ham
Sandwich”?? Whaaaa??· “Party time! Take a sip of
water.” Is she kidding? This does not qualify as a ‘party’.·
“Lock your knees, lock your knees, lock your knees.” Why
does she repeat herself? · “Pulling is the object of
stretching.” Really?· Oh, finally the last exercise, I
actually like this breathing exercise.· Why oh why is she
turning the fan on now? Class is over and I don’t care anymore.
2009· Phew, it is so hot in
here. But I really need this. · Why do I do this TO
myself? Oh right, I remember, I’m doing this FOR myself.
Whatever…· Why doesn’t she turn on the fan? I’m sure
she’s a sadist! · I’ll just keep this wash cloth by my
mat and try to sneak a wipe. · I’m sure the teacher has
lost count, we’ve done at least 38 of these infernal deep breaths
already.”· Half-Moon is impossible. Who could do this?
Oh, everyone else seems to be doing it…· “Party time!
Take a sip of water.” No way that I am feeling the festive party
atmosphere here.· “Like a Japanese Ham Sandwich”??
Really??· I ‘hate’ Awkward-Pose, Eagle-Pose,
Standing-Head-To-Knee is next and Standing-Bow-Pose is after that.
Is there no end to this series of terrible poses?· “Lock
your knees, lock your knees, lock your knees.” I heard you the
first time · I am sending telepathic thoughts to the
teacher to turn on the fan. Why is she not obeying me?· Who
are these other people and why do they make these poses look so
easy?· I’ll never have thin enough thighs to get my foot
around my leg in Eagle-Pose.· Why oh why is she turning the
fan on NOW that we’re finished?
2010· Why doesn’t she turn
on the fan? I’m sure she’s a sadist! · What did you say
Delores? No more washcloths in the room? No way! …I’ll sneak
one in under my towel and whip it out when she’s not looking!·
Half-Moon still hurts my arms. · “Lock your knees,
lock your knees, lock your knees.” I think they are locked!
Yippee! · “Party time! Take a sip of water.” Party?
OK, whatever you say.· I am training myself to stop thinking
ahead about which poses I ‘like’ and which ones I tolerate. It’s
not useful to evaluate· Thank G*d that class is over. I’m
glad I attended.
2011· Why doesn’t she turn
on the fan? I’m sure she’s a sadist! · Half-Moon is so
good for me. · I guess I don’t really need a washcloth…
· I choose to be here now: I’m in THIS pose now, I am
concentrating on THIS pose NOW.· I choose to enjoy my time
here. I choose this.
2012· Why doesn’t she turn
on the fan? I’m sure she’s a sadist! · I love
Half-Moon. Oops! …I’m dreaming!
Jest wishes,
Linda MacNeal, FSP, Former Serious
Person
HumorSolutions.com 914-617-2002
Let me teach you to eliminate stress
using humor.
|
Howard Ecker
I will never go to a yoga class. I was satisfied with my personal trainer, lifted weights 3 times a week, played golf in the summer and skied in the winter. My wife Felice and her yogini girlfriends were doing that "hot yoga thing" for 10 years and I wanted no part of it. In fact, I really hated to sweat. But we were in Florida in the Spring of 2007, eating way too many of my mother's famous brownies and on a whim, I decided to join my wife at the Bikram Yoga class in Delray Beach.
A little apprehensive, I felt relaxed to find several other men in the room and I wasn't even the oldest person in the class. I set my mat in an invisible back corner of the room, as far away from the podium as possible. The elderly, German teacher was ruthlessly meticulous as though every word was a command not to be challenged or heaven forbid disobeyed. Ninety minutes and five pounds later, I escaped hating the tortuous ordeal of trying to stand on one leg and still breathe in a steamy overheated room but actually felt energized and a bit euphoric, perhaps even buzzed.
I don't know why, but I returned the next day to take my second dose of Bikram torture. The class was just as painful as the previous day but intuitively I knew I was doing something positive for my body as my ego was telling me otherwise. Upon return to New York, my wife took me to her yoga studio. The classes were varied including Bikram, Vinyasa, Flow and other terms that meant absolutely nothing to me except the room was so hot, I could not breath and the sweat burned my eyes, but I kept coming back. The teachers were patient with me as I complained when they did not turn on the fans and constantly poured water over my head to cool down. One evening, someone in the class said to me, "If you keep coming back, your life is going to change". My first reaction was "Oh no, this is another 12-step program called Yoganon". I had no idea what he meant by this statement, but I continued to come back night after night.
Well that was 4 ½ years ago and that stranger's prophesy has become a reality for me. I lost 20 pounds and 3 pants sizes. I got rid of all my "chubby clothes" and bought a new wardrobe, so gaining weight is no longer an option. It took 6 months but I finally learned how to breathe through my nose. After 2 years, I was able to go all the way back in fixed firm pose and I actually find it quite relaxing these days. I sleep less, concentrate better and am more focused at work. It feels like I was living in a fog. Gradually the mist has lifted and I can see everything in sharp resolution without my contacts.
I have practiced Bikram Yoga from New York to California, from Beijing to Paris and there is always an anticipated excitement to try a new studio or a class in a foreign language. I love talking to beginners taking their first class. When asked if it gets easy after a while, I share that it is never easy because you will always work harder in each pose. One of these years I might even be able to straighten my leg in standing head to knee but even if that never happens I will still keep coming back because I am afraid to stop. So many good things have happened in my life these past 4 years. Is it the yoga?...maybe. So even when I would love to go home after work, I drive 35 minutes to Yorktown because this may be the day my leg straightens out or I can grab my heels.
|
|
|
Judy Allen
On the night of February 21st, I find myself gasping for breath. Very scary, in case you've never experienced it. No matter how hard I inhale, I can't get enough oxygen. About 1 a.m. my husband drives me to the emergency room. When I'm discharged several hours later, I have an inhaler, an asthma meter and a diagnosis: COPD (Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease), a term I have heard only once before and know nothing about.
I go see a pulmonologist, who does breathing tests and wants me to get a CT scan. She sends me home with an inhaler with 60 doses of some steroid. Two puffs every morning and two puffs every night. That evening I open the inhaler and take the required two puffs. Then I read the side effects. Then I read the part that says rinse your mouth out after you inhale and DON'T SWALLOW the water. Oh yikes, what have I done? I decide to not puff any more and see how much better I can get on my own. I still have the emergency inhaler if necessary.
The CT scan shows no emphysema (yay!). I tell the doctor I'd rather not take the steroid medication and she says some people want to breathe perfectly and some people want to breathe as well as they can without meds. She tells me I DO have COPD, but I'm hoping to keep it from getting worse by never smoking anything ever again.
On April 3rd I get an email from a friend with information about a type of yoga that uses a hot environment supposedly very good for the lungs. Bikram. Never heard of it. But doing a google search I discover there's a studio in Yorktown, just a 15 or 20-minute drive. I get the schedule and finally decide, just start. So on April 14th I go to the 9:30 class. The instructor tells me “Just stay in the room today and do what you can.”
Holy cow, it's hot in there! Like a sauna, and then you have to do the postures too. I'm dreadfully out of shape. I feel like a walrus flopping around. I have to stop and just lie there several times, especially toward the end, nauseous and exhausted.
But I begin to feel the difference in my lungs almost immediately. After the first class I sign up for the first week and return six out of the following seven days. After the first week I sign up for a month. At first it only feels good after the ninety minutes are over, the class itself feels like torture. But after a few weeks, I get a glimmer, every so often, of a sort of meditative moment within a posture, a sort of (momentary, to be sure) effortlessness. And I start to notice a sort of calm settling on me that lasts through the day. My skin, which has always been kind of rough and goose-bumpy, is smooth as silk. I lose a few pounds.
The last time I have to use my emergency inhaler to breathe is sometime in May.
The weeks go by, I'm taking 4-5 classes a week, and my body starts to remember how it used to be able to move. It's always a struggle, but sometimes it's less of a struggle than others. There are breakthroughs. (Sometimes they last, sometimes they don't, but that's ok too.) And then comes the day, just before my four-month anniversary, when the whole class goes smoothly, I can do almost everything, and I'm in a state where it feels like the sequence is doing me instead of me doing it. As if I just kind of get out of the way and let it flow. Very euphoric. Very sweet. It's like, oh NOW I get it!
Of course it doesn't last. The next class I'm off-balance and the struggle is back. But it doesn't matter. All that matters is that I'm there. And will continue to be there for a long time to come.
Some days I think I'm cured. Some days I know I'm not. The C in COPD does, after all, stand for “chronic.” But I'm betting on Bikram to keep it at bay.
I could only get the asthma meter to go up to 100 in the ER, but since starting Bikram yoga, I can make it go up to 250. So I make an appointment to have my breathing re-tested. It's five months since the pulmonologist originally tested me and four months since I started Bikram. Every measurement has improved. She's impressed, but what impresses her most is not the test results, but simply that I feel better. I show her how to do the pranayama breathing and give her a print-out of the instructions I found online. (Being a pulmonologist, she probably has other patients who can benefit from at least that one exercise.) We shake hands and she says, “call me when you need me,” and it appears to both of us that probably won't be for quite a while.
Judy Allen
Putnam Valley, NY
August 23, 2011
|
|
