The more I think about it, the more I feel that I’ve lived two different lives: one before and one after Ashtanga Yoga.
Although I had practiced a bit of Yoga before, I only started a daily Ashtanga practice in my late twenties. I committed to it from day one because I enjoyed it more than any other physical activity I had tried before.
It was tough and I was not good at it at the beginning. Still, I was drawn to this practice in a way I could not explain. Even though it didn’t give me the instant gratification I was so used to seeking, it gave me something much more powerful and meaningful. I didn’t know it back then, but looking backwards, this practice had started changing me from day one.
Today, after a decade of practicing daily and most of the time on my own, I can pinpoint the ways in which Ashtanga Yoga changed my life.
It helped me befriend my body and accept myself
I have suffered from a distorted body image and mild eating disorders for the first three decades of my life. I was always obsessed with my looks. Controlling my weight, counting calories, trying different diets, cutting down on carbs and fat were my day to day reality for many years. I would spend endless hours at the gym and run 10k every day, always in a desperate attempt to lose weight. I was never satisfied with the outcome and kept trying harder and harder.
And then came Ashtanga, the practice that made me truly listen to my body for the first time. I still remember the day when I realized that my breath actually had a sound. I was so excited that I kept breathing with the characteristic sound throughout the day, and noticed how much it calmed my mind.
The more my body responded to the practice and the gentle guidance of the breath, the less I had the compulsive need to control how it looked and how much it weighed. As if this practice injected some self love and acceptance into my veins for the first time in my life. I threw away my body scale after the first couple of months of practice. I didn’t want to put myself through that cruel daily inspection anymore.
It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that my practice fixed my relationship with food. It gradually showed me how to make right and healthy choices, based on how different foods made my body feel. It helped me re-awaken the intuition I had lost because of my compulsive dieting and unrealistic standards. Feeling good in my skin was something that I never knew before. Once I experienced that feeling, I made the commitment to never quit this practice for as long as I’m alive.
It made me less distracted and more present
Since I was a child I’d always been easily distracted and absent minded. Endless reverie was the go to solution I had developed to escape all the realities I didn’t want or couldn’t face. Focusing on something for more than a few minutes was almost impossible.This resulted in me becoming quickly bored with any new activity, job, occupation, hobby, relationship etc.
I always needed excitement, stimulation, entertainment and when I couldn’t find it I would just move on, chasing the next hit of dopamine.
Ashtanga Yoga became the first thing that managed to keep me focused and fully present for a given period of time. The effect of the breath was transformative. Breathing and moving rhythmically, attempting challenging poses where everything needed to be calculated, following all the rules of Ashtanga worked like a cure for my restless and scattered mind. As if this practice made anything external seem meaningless, guiding me to look for answers within me.
Slowly I started noticing that this newly acquired capacity to focus extended beyond the mat. With time, I became more capable of listening to people without zoning out, more able to harness and control my mind, better at applying myself to tasks with one pointed attention over a long period of time.
That being said, this is an ongoing process. Absent-mindedness and distractibility are things I need to work on every day. But the need to always be stimulated and constantly seek distraction out of boredom is now gone. Quite the contrary, I now enjoy the peace that comes from lack of stimulation and novelty. Routine doesn’t scare me anymore, it has become my best friend.
It showed me that only through discipline and purpose can we access inner freedom
Building and maintaining a 6 days per week practice is tough. Getting up at dawn to practice before work is tough. Repeating the same sequence day after day, waiting for the teacher to give you the next pose, being stuck in a pose for months is tough. It requires a certain relinquishment of control and a deep trust in the practice and the process. It requires discipline.
The thing is, I hated discipline, rules and listening to other people. I valued my freedom above anything else. I thought I was free but in reality I was living mostly in my head. My mind was completely out of control, working most of the time against me. Sure, all my options were open, I always did what I wanted but I had no purpose, no path, no guiding light. I was directionless and empty.
Daily practice gave me something to look forward to, a reason to get up in the morning when everything else was a drag. I could take all the struggle as long as I had something to work towards, something that had a meaning larger than myself.
Ashtanga Yoga taught me that real freedom does not come from a multitude of options, but from sticking to something meaningful through hard times, from finding something you believe in and not quitting, no matter what.
It taught me the art of letting go
Ashtanga came into my life at a moment when I felt stuck and helpless. I was trapped in a job I despised and a lifestyle that was unhealthy, to say the least. I knew I had to make changes but I felt like a bird with clipped wings, unable to fly away and move on.
When I was about 2 years into my daily practice, I started realizing that drinking alcohol had a massive effect on how I felt the day after and therefore on the quality of my practice. Even after one glass of wine I would feel heavy, sluggish and drained.
So I made the decision to quit alcohol for a month and see if I can handle it. The one month became 2 and 3 as I was feeling great, light and powerful. And just like that, alcohol left my life for good. I haven’t had a single glass for almost 8 years and I don’t miss it at all.
This is just one example of the many things we think we need in our life, when in reality we don’t.
Our culture is one of holding on to things, not one of letting go.
I stayed in a job that made me unhappy because I thought I needed the status that came with it. When I finally quit, I discovered that the lifestyle I thought I needed so much was yet another thing dragging me down. It made me feel I have to look, behave and live a certain way, even though this way of life no longer reflected who I really was.
Learning to let go of things that no longer serve us is crucial to our wellbeing.
"Vairagya”, which means detachment in Sanskrit, is an essential notion in Yoga. Detachment does not mean to abandon worldly life and become a monk, as many believe. Nor does it mean to become nihilistic and not care about anything. It means - among others - to learn how to let go of things that weigh down on us, in order to become light.
Ashtanga Yoga taught me lightness. The whole practice is about finding the perfect balance between contraction and elongation, strength and flexibility, stability and fluidity, effort and ease, struggle and acceptance.
Many say Ashtanga is hard. This is true only if we fail to breathe some lightness into it. With time, and as we mature in our practice, the lightness comes. And after a while it starts permeating our life, giving us the courage to let go of unnecessary burdens, showing us what’s really important and what’s not.
With lightness comes clarity. And with clarity comes the courage to make bold choices and leave some things behind, in order to move forward.
The value of a spiritual practice
Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like today if I hadn’t found this practice. I’ve also been pondering on the role of “Sadhana”- a spiritual practice - in our modern society.
A spiritual practice can be many things: a purpose, a guiding light, a reference point, a mirror reflecting back on us our weaknesses and what we need to work on, a reminder to make our physical and mental health a priority.
It won’t be a solution to all our problems, it won’t make us holy or superhuman. We will still be flawed, make mistakes, hurt ourselves and others, fall and stand back up.
But when hardship comes - as it always will - our Sadhana will be the one thing that will keep us going despite all odds, a gift and a blessing that nothing and no one can take away from us.
