Lessons from Power Yoga

rachelspangler • September 23, 2015

Hi friends,

Many of you know my friend/editor/neighbor/fellow author Lynda Sandoval recently opened a yoga studio in our little corner of Western New York. I had the privilege of helping her do the renovations to the space, which is to say I talked to her and occasionally handed tools to other people. Still, I feel a sense of pride in the studio, and I want it to succeed. And by all accounts it is succeeding. They are offerings tons of classes in so many areas with so many amazing instructors, and people are responding. Attendance is growing every week. People who have never done yoga before are practicing next to people who can effortlessly pop into handstands. Our little community has thrown itself behind this endeavor, and there is a place for everyone in the movement.

I knew where my place was from the beginning. I would take the slow, not hot-classes where Lynda talked in soothing tones. I would downward dog, and salute the sun, spend lots of time in my beloved child’s pose, and to prove I wasn’t a slacker, I would do some planks. Then I would hang out in the lobby and welcome folks like a goodwill ambassador. Wooing is what I’m good at. Exercise, not so much.

I had the best of intentions, but those of you who follow this blog know I’ve had a busy few months. I’ve visited new places, accepted a new job , started a new novel, and signed a new  book contract with a new publisher. So much newness. And of course I want to embrace those changes or I wouldn’t have accepted them, but as schedules got tighter and the pace of life got faster, I felt myself pulling back. I needed order. I needed routine, the familiar. I made a list of areas I wanted to anchor myself in and posted the list on my Facebook page as part of a 30 day challenge.

Here’s my list:

Health
64 oz of water x 30
60 servings Fruit and veggies
Detox bath x 4

Fitness
Yoga classes x 12
Run x 12
Plank x 30 minutes

Mental Health
Read Acts and Romans
Hang out with friends x 4
Donate to the Food Pantry

Work
25,000 words
Edit Perfect Pairing
4 blogs

Family
Family Tennis x 4
Family dates x 4
NYC Vacation

Fun
Inflatable 5 K
Movies x 4
Try a new restaurant

It might look like a lot, but most of the items are basic. They’re things I should already be doing on a regular basis. Taking care of my health and my family and my job, these are the things I know. This list was meant to help me hone in on what I know is best for me. I love my list.

By the middle of the month, I was either on target or close to on target in all my major areas. The only thing I’d had a hard time with was the 12 yoga classes. All those slow, easy, not hot-classes I wanted to do didn’t fit with my schedule or Jackson’s schedule, so I fell behind. I wasn’t going to be able to catch up and stay in my comfort zone, so with a little prompting from Lynda, I agreed to take the power yoga class during the free community-class time slot. I figured I would be in over my head, but there were 20 people between me and the teacher. I hid my mat in the very back corner next to Lynda and planned to slip into child’s pose frequently, or make excuses to sip my water any time things got too hard.

Well, they got hard pretty quickly. I was sweating within 15 minutes. We moved quickly from one pose right into another. I didn’t have time to find an exit ramp we were moving so fast. I stayed up with the group largely out of frantic fear of not being able to untangle myself. Everyone else in the room seemed to be in the same boat. People laughed a lot as we forgot our right from left. Some guy in the front popped into handstand. Someone else tried and crashed. Still, the instructor calmly moved step-by-step through directions upon directions. I couldn’t see her, but she gave beautifully detailed verbal cues. Suddenly I didn’t know a pose looked complicated. I couldn’t see that “crow” was way over my head. I didn’t even have a full picture. I only had one explicit piece of the puzzle on top of another. She said “Put your hands down,” and I did. She said “Look out in front of you,” and I did. She told us, “Bend your arms.” I bent mine. She said, “Use your arms as shelf and hook one knee on.” Once I’d done that, she said to do the same thing with the other.

And I did.

(It looked like this…in theory)
images-2

I was in crow, a move I would have never tried if she’d shown it to me and asked, “Do you want to do this?” In fact, I had been asked that very question in the past and politely declined, taking either a modification or child’s pose instead.

But now, here I was, knees on elbows, feet in the air, completely stable and totally in my body instead of my head. I laughed and made Lynda look at me. I know, not very zen, but major progress. And one little accomplishment I didn’t even think I was trying for opened up a world of possibilities. I left feeling much more exhilarated than sore, and two days later I went back to Power Yoga. In fact, I’ve gone back four more times since then. Now I do “crow,” and “bird of paradise,” and supported head and handstands (Someday I will do them unsupported.), and today I got “side crow” for the first time.

(Side crow looks like this…in theory)

Each time I go into class open-minded and let go of all the fears and body image limitations I thought I had, I find I can do so much more than I ever thought to aspire to.

It’s been in a good lesson for me in this time of change. What if I didn’t try to get back to normal? What if I didn’t make reasonable goals? What if didn’t look at a whole problem and decide it couldn’t or shouldn’t be tackled. What if I just took everything as it came without anticipating it, without worrying about the fall or bowing out before I even got started?

What if we assumed we were all capable of doing the things that inspired us and meeting the challenges of the world around us?

What if we approached every step in a calm, matter-of-fact voice that implies everything is possible?

Who could we be then? What could we accomplish?

I don’t know, but I’d love to find out.

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But we were not nothing to each other. I have prayed for her every day for almost a year, and now I pray for her family. I have wondered and worried over her. I have woken up in the middle of long nights and on Christmas morning thinking about her. Every time I notice the little scar on my chest where the line went into my body, I have felt her with me. Still, I did not know her. And I never will. When the transplant coordinator called, she broke the news quickly, then she said that she needed one more thing from me. She wondered if I might release my remaining stem cells to researchers. I was still a bit rocked back from the start of the conversation, and this request confused me. She explained that there were some cells left over after the transfusion, and they still belonged to me. Legally and ethically, those cells, even after they left my body, are a part of me, and no one can do anything to those extensions of my body without my releasing them. I thought about asking her if anyone had mentioned that to the Supreme Court, but I was too sad in the moment. The anger would come later, but as I’ve pondered that fact, it has helped me at least contextualize the level of grief I am feeling: A woman died with a part of me inside of her. I have tried to temper the dramatic impulse to surrender to the idea that if she died with a part of me inside her, a part of me has died as well, but I’ll admit I have gone there a time or two. What I have leaned on more frequently, though, is that despite not knowing anything other than her rough age and gender, we shared something more fundamental than names or letters. We shared stem cells, the very building blocks of what makes us who we are on a cellular level. With those cells I sent my hopes, my best impulses, my health, my love, the pieces of my blood and bones that allow me to live such a wonderful life in the hopes I could sustain her with those things. Turns out I could not. It has been two weeks of wondering if I could have done more. Fearing that my body, which I have always had a problematic relationship with, has failed me again, and this time betrayed someone else in the process. Worrying someone else paid the price of my insufficiency. Remembering loved ones I have lost to cancer, feeling that pain anew. Imagining the anguish of those who loved her as deeply as I loved the people I lost, and almost crippling empathy for the pain they are living in right now, pain I couldn’t save them from even though I tried. It’s been dark in my brain. My emotions have overwhelmed me often. Sadness ruled the first week. I burst into tears several times at inopportune moments, and cried until my face hurt. This past week anger took over. I will admit, other than a general sense of the injustice of it all, I didn’t understand where the anger came from. Then in session this week, my therapist explained that anger is a common outlet for a sense of helplessness. 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She smiled like she knew that, then gently pushed. “If one year ago someone had told you, there’s a woman in need and you will never know her. She needs the very base of your body’s building blocks, it will be a grueling process over several days that will take more out of you physically and emotionally than you had imagined, and all it will give her is 11 more months. 11 months to say what she needs to say, to hug loved ones, to try to make peace. One more Christmas, one more birthday, one more fall, and winter, and spring, but that’s all. She will be gone, and you will live on with the questions, and a connection most people will never comprehend. Would you sign up for that? The answer was yes. It is yes. If I got the same call tomorrow, the answer would be yes that day and every day after. It will always be yes. I suppose that is the through line. That’s the story. It’s part of my story, and it will be, for as long I have cells in my body…or out of it. · If your answer would be “yes” too, and you are eligible to donate, please consider registering with Be The Match , and if you aren't eligible yourself please share this information with the people in your life who might be!
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