When I discovered yoga, I was participating in a group aerobics class. He was also the proud owner of a very successful video store and had just closed a failing gift shop. My daughter, who was 18 months old at the time, accompanied me everywhere, even to work. Exercise class was her first daycare experience and it wasn’t a good one. I had to look for something different in the form of movement and somehow, I found myself in a yoga class at a local studio. I knew absolutely nothing about the practice, so this would be a new experience for me. Little did I know that this new experience would forever change the way I viewed my life.

I remember that in the first yoga class I participated in I felt uncomfortable and out of place. I remember wondering, “Why is this so difficult?” I also remember feeling totally blown away afterwards. As I looked around the room at the other yogis enjoying poses with peaceful faces, I remember wanting to find just that. He returned to class at the rate of two or three times a week. I learned meditation techniques, I learned Pranayama (breathing techniques), I learned sun salutations, I learned how to hold still poses, and above all, that first year. I learned to relax. Being constantly on the go, and thinking that I always had to be busy, I was intrigued by the idea of ​​resting and knowing that I was okay. I guess, at first, if you had asked me the definition of yoga, my answer would probably have been that it was quite physically challenging and a bit taxing on my mind. I found places in my body that I never knew existed during that first year. I found a breath I never knew I could take too. I was curious to find more space in my body and observe what was going on in my mind, so I continued with the practice. I started branching out after that first year and taking classes from different teachers. The styles, it seemed, were endless. Each teacher had something new and different to offer. I was hooked, forever.

In the following years of my yoga practice, I found serenity and peace of mind. Things that were pretty looked prettier now, and things that were hard were suddenly not so hard. I experienced an abandonment of both mental clutter and material things. I just didn’t need as many “stuff” and started to feel like a much lighter person. I started listening instead of talking so much when I was in a conversation. I was less anxious, stood taller and smiled more. To me, yoga is all the things you already own, but haven’t tapped into yet. I guess if you had asked me the definition of yoga right now it would have been something more like calm after the storm, mental clarity, roomy hips, better posture, and soft eyes. I know that taking a yoga class can open many doors. I also know that once these doors are unlocked, a decision is made, to return or not to return to class. I kept coming back for more.

When my first teacher asked me to start helping her in class, I thought she had gone crazy. Why would she ask me to do that? How could she walk across the room and help someone the way she had helped me? I am by no means an extrovert. I found that several yoga teachers have experience and theatrical quality. I am a quiet person. There was no way I could stand in front of people and talk, much less guide them through a class. Being on display was never high on my to-do list. I was happy enough, moving through my life pretty unnoticed. He basically said I had to do it, especially if I was scared, kind of like write this little chapter. I started out helping with the positions during relaxation, making sure the students had what they needed in terms of props and such. I assisted with subtle adjustments while in savasana, a touch on the shoulder or an adjustment to the head and neck. I felt incredibly comfortable doing this, but of course the lights were off and the students were resting. If you had asked me the definition of yoga right now, it would have been something more like helping other people feel better about themselves, giving without receiving, and breathing deeply with a sigh of happiness. I loved what he was doing. I loved the idea of ​​doing it forever. I loved the idea that if I couldn’t do it forever, it didn’t matter, because today was enough. I found patience and an appreciation of the moment.

I started spending more time away from my business so I could be in the yoga room. I paid my manager at my video store way more than I paid myself. It did not matter. I was in love with what he was doing and it meant something to me. Some weeks, I ended up saying yes to every sub-job there was. Sometimes I was substituting more than some of my friends who were teaching full time. After 12 years of playing business ownership, I made the decision to close the business. Independently owned video stores had been hit hard by chain stores, and our area was full of them. The decision was not difficult. I remember walking through the empty store after closing, taking a deep breath and feeling so grateful that I would no longer be spending time with the entertainment industry on a daily basis. I guess if you had asked me at this point in my life the definition of yoga, I definitely would have been able to let go easily, that nothing is permanent, that all things can and will change, and that it will be fine. Leaving the business was not as difficult as I expected. I feel that the practice of yoga can ease any transition in your life, and my practice has helped me through several.

I continued as an understudy and was eventually given a class of my own. I taught at the YMCA, I taught in the studio, I went to workplaces and colleges. He still practiced with students and teachers alike. He practiced at home, outdoors, and when on vacation. I immersed myself in books and DVDs. He traveled when he could attend workshops with teachers he had heard of and even those he had not. I ended up with a few stable classes of my own and the students kept coming back. At this point in my life, if you had asked me the definition of yoga, it would have been more like we were all part of the bigger picture, something much bigger than ourselves. That the practice unites peace and people in a positive way and that stepping on the tatami is not always easy. There is much beauty on the mat. There is also a lot of ugliness. I believe that on the tatami we find our truth, good, bad, beautiful or ugly.

Today, I lead several classes a week in a few different places. I continue to attend workshops and classes from other yoga teachers when I can and continue to be amazed. I’m still a student, first of all. I love the idea that there will always be something new to learn and that my body will constantly change and therefore my practice too. Also, I have never participated in a yoga class that I didn’t enjoy. Each class has been a learning experience of personal growth, physical limits and mental clarity. I am so grateful to all the teachers that I have spent any amount of time with. It doesn’t matter if you were a new teacher, an experienced teacher or a yoga star. It doesn’t matter if I spent a lot of money on travel to take your class, if you were a local, or if you pissed me off. It doesn’t matter if I made some dough because I was able to bring you to my area. You were amazing, all of you. And you know who you are.

Yoga for me is in everything. It is the ebb and flow. It is the journey of each day and the awareness of the moment. It is the warm sun in winter and the cool rain in summer. It’s your family, your friends and your pets. Yoga is hard and soft. It is laughter and joy, as well as sadness and pain. It is a conscious training with a higher purpose. It’s reaching high and bending low. It is the earth under our feet and the sky and stars above us. It is the best medicine you have ever swallowed. It’s the smiles on the children’s faces. It’s a hot cup of tea and a good book. It is the garden you tend in your backyard. It is being there for someone in a time of need. It’s knowing how to step back and take some time for yourself. It is a greeting to the sun on your terrace on a sunny day. It is meditation wrapped in blankets during an ice storm when the power goes out. It is the best piece of chocolate you have ever tasted. It’s the best fit you’ve ever had on a downward facing dog. It’s the people in the yoga room and those who haven’t gotten there yet. Yoga is this moment, here and now.