Crying in yoga class

I am, in fact, a worried potato

As I approached the afternoon of my one day off following an eight-day stretch of work, I readied myself for a 2.5 hour yin yoga class. Grateful that I could take it from home, I was in my cozy fleece-lined tights and a big sweater. My hair unwashed, my face unmake-uped, and oh so ready.

January had been long, cold, and heavy. World events were heavy, personal events were heavy, and events in the lives of friends were heavy. I looked forward to putting everything down and focusing on my mat for a little while.

But, my yoga practice had other ideas.

Here lie the remains of an emotional yoga practice

Open up the floodgates

I’m lying on my back, legs up the wall, and we’re breathing into the pelvis. Suddenly, a lump begins to bulge into my chest. A stinging reaches the nerves behind my eyes. A tinge of nausea emerges.

We keep breathing and I aim to simply let it pass. Like clouds in the sky.

But they only gather round and turn grey, a storm brewing.

We move into a hip opener, and the rain unleashes. Sobs shake my chest and tears pour from my eyes. I instinctually make my way onto my side, then into child pose and let it happen. My body trying to take cover.

When the rain turns to a sprinkle, I continue to move through poses as I can, stopping when overwhelmed by feeling. I consider abandoning the practice several times, itching to distract myself with my phone or the television, but ultimately decide to stay for a little while longer. See what happens.

A Worried Potato

An image from a children’s book I recently discovered at the library comes to me. The book, entitled “I’m Worried,” is part of a series that helps introduce children to big feelings they may experience, like worry.

The very worried potato

In this story, a potato is dealing with existential dread and anxiety (perhaps this “children’s” book is really for the grown-ups?) and with the help of their friends, a flamingo and a little girl, they navigate it. The flamingo and little girl try to offer perspective by sharing their own experiences of how things turned out when bad things happened. Ultimately, they show compassion for how their friend potato feels, and validate their emotions.

Now, I don’t have a flamingo and a little girl around, but I do have a furry dog and a yoga teacher. My dog, perhaps sensing my unease, takes a nap break to rub against my back like a cat while I’m in a twist. And my wonderful teacher offers guidance and wisdom through the screen.

Together with them, I breathe, let myself wander in my thoughts for a little distraction, cry when it bubbles up, and then come back to the practice.

Sticking with the feeling

To my surprise, I finish the class - albeit by tempting myself with a cup of caramel rooibos tea, some chocolate, and a bath after as a reward. And I feel…..ok.

Not necessarily better, not necessarily worse, but ok. Bone-tired and a whisper of a headache, but also the knowledge that some feelings moved.

Sort of like the feeling of taking off a heavy backpack. My shoulders and neck still ache from what I was carrying, but there is also a bodily recognition of the weight lifted for a while. And that’s a place to start.

I look around at the mess of props around me, reflecting the mess of emotions that forced their way out too. I consider it and then walk away to give myself a little more rest before I return to clean it up and keep going.

How are you taking care right now? I would love to hear how you’re feeling.