Hi. My name is Nanu, and I am a class-goer at Adeline Yoga. I first began dabbling in Iyengar yoga classes some thirty years ago, when I was still living in San Francisco. I had been to a few Hatha Yoga classes before, but they never quite grabbed me. Then, I found a tiny Iyengar studio a few blocks from my house here in Berkeley. There were just two fantastic teachers, and the practice felt completely different to me. I loved the detail and the precision. I loved how the classes felt like a mental exercise in addition to a physical one. I loved how we all (teacher included) went out for Chinese food after many of the classes. And so it continued for many years. The idea of a home practice never even crossed my mind, and if the teachers talked of it, I didn’t even notice.
When I was 40, I got pregnant with my son as a single parent. I threw myself into parenting and working full time. I stopped going to yoga and survived, thrilled and happy with my life as a mother. We moved to Berkeley. And finally, when my son was 16 (ten years ago!), the time came to get back to some kind of a yoga practice. Some kind of physical exercise.
My very long-time friend and long-time Adeline member, Nina Carson, suggested I try a class with Anneke. One Saturday morning at 11:00 I showed up at my first Adeline class. It was like walking into a room full of sunshine. Anneke radiated joy and that joy permeated her teaching. I was hooked – but only mildly so. Faithfully, I showed up every Saturday morning. I was weak. I had poor balance. I was reasonably flexible. I did my best. Anneke spoke about developing a home practice, but I knew she wasn’t talking to ME. Certainly, not to me. I did, however, start to wish I could take more classes, but I just didn’t have the time.
And then came Covid. I was home, alone, (with my dogs), everyday. My son was off at college by then. I was teaching (preschool!) a bit on Zoom, but I had a lot of control of my schedule, and so I scheduled it around yoga classes, and I began to go almost every single morning. I met and built relationships with many more teachers and students. (At least, they were the kind of relationships that you build when you only know someone on Zoom!) Each teacher had their own uniqueness, and I loved every one of them. The yoga felt good for my body and the daily connection with other humans was good for my soul. In fact, in those days, it was a life line. My addiction to class going was born.
It was during this time that I first began to hear, shall we say, inklings, that I should be building a home practice, outside of class time. “You should do this pose every single day,” Anneke said (and still says) about every single pose. (I felt overwhelmed.) “Oh Nanu,” another teacher once told me upon discovering that I did not, in fact, have a home practice, “you don’t want to be a class-goer! You want to be a practitioner!” (I felt ashamed.) “If you want to improve your practice, you need to go to fewer classes and build a home practice,” Heather once told me. (I felt devastated.)
Because here’s the thing. Here’s how trying to practice at home made me feel: Vacant. Vacuous. Vapid. Overwhelmed. Bored. Irritated. Annoyed. Itching to get off the mat, out of the room, out of my skin. And devastatingly lonely. I felt this way even if I tried to practice along with an Adeline recording. In short, it adds up to one big mucky, muddy puddle of yuk.
Having said this, I have to interject two things here. 1) I DO have a daily physical therapy practice. I’ve been doing PT for my hip and knee for probably over a year now, and I am very consistent about it. And, 2) I have frequently gone through stages where I have practiced one or two yoga poses daily, sometimes for months at a stretch, in the hopes that my daily practice of them will help improve my ability to do the pose: Vrikshasana. Parivrtta Trikonasana. Ardha Adho Mukha Vrksasana. After several weeks, the daily practice falls off my radar, usually without any visible improvement. (Why bother?)
In the meantime, here is what I love about going to classes: being told what to do, when and EXACTLY how to do it (move the skin of your upper thigh in one direction and the bone in another direction…); the expert and detailed explanations of each pose, each movement; the hands on support and personalized direction given to me AND to other students; the distinct flavor that each teacher brings to her classes; the fascination of the unique journey of each class; the thrill of finally being able to do a pose that I struggled with; the joy of seeing other students accomplish this same thing; the inspiration of seeing other students (or the teachers) do a pose perfectly and beautifully; the satisfaction of finally understanding what a teacher means by something she has said for years (I CAN move my skin in one direction and bone in another!); the physicality of the yoga poses; the intellectual challenge of the poses; the few moments in a pose where I achieve that perfect balance between full attention to the pose and nothing but the pose, but I am not yet dying to come out of it; the peace that I feel in my body at some of these moments; the feel and smell of the studio; the presence of every prop under the sun; and most of all, the absolutely amazing, mind blowingly wonderful, incredibly supportive, embracing and joyous community of friends and other students who are learning alongside me – be they “practitioners” with a steady and full home practice, or class goers just like me. In short, it all adds up to a delicious bowl of spicy hot pot soup. (I’m probably supposed to say something more hippie-like. Black bean soup? But I like spicy hot pot much, much better.)
A few months ago, Heather hosted a chit chat, “At the Threshold: When Yoga Becomes Yours,” ostensibly about moving from consistent class-going to engaging in a home practice. I went. I went reluctantly and with a bad attitude. ( I HATE practicing alone at home. I am NOT going to develop a home practice and you can’t make me! And this Chit Chat is NOT going to change that.) But I went. I went knowing that I am often wrong, and that I enjoy being proven wrong (because that means I’ve learned something new).
Of course, I was wrong. Many useful and meaningful things were said, but the most meaningful of all, for me was this: I asked Heather, “But why do we have to transition from being (just) a class-goer to having a home practice?” Heather’s answer: “That’s a really good question, Nanu.” (Nothing like a little validation to butter me up!) “You don’t. When I practice at home, my goal is to develop focus and equanimity.” Simple words that had such a profound effect on me. First of all, there was the release from guilt and shame. I actually DON’T have to have a home practice! Heather said so! In her own words. To be cliche about it, I felt as if a heavy load had been lifted from my shoulders. And then the second part: focus and equanimity??? Well, that was definitely NOT what I had ever felt when I tried practicing at home. What a concept!
In the days following the chitchat, I thought a lot about why I have been able to easily maintain my daily physical therapy practice but not a home yoga practice. I came up with three things. 1) In my imagination, I am accountable to somebody specifically – the physical therapist. I only got to see her once a month and she probably barely knew my name, let alone thought about whether or not I was doing my exercises. But still, I tricked myself into making this work for me. 2) I have a very limited number of very specific and clear exercises that I am meant to do each day. I don’t have to make any decisions or choices. 3) It WORKED. Within a few weeks, my hip and knee pain lessened considerably.
How, I wondered, could I apply some of those criteria to developing a home yoga practice? I asked Heather if she could give me three specific poses. (In fact, I expressed a wish that the studio put out a three-pose-a-week challenge: practice these THREE poses every day for this week.) Heather gave me a couple of print outs with full routines but she DID point out three poses that I should start with: Ardha Uttānāsana; Utkatānasana; and Chair Bharadvājānasana.
The very next morning, I went to do my physical therapy exercises. I put on some music, as I always do, and I began to practice Ardha Uttānāsana. I put my hands flat on a dresser top, stretched back, and looked down at the floor. I stood quietly, listening to the music. I felt it almost immediately: Focus. Equanimity. Calm. Quiet. The feeling stayed with me as I practiced Utkatānasana and a few other poses interspersed into my PT exercises. Even those felt different. They felt more yogic. As soon as I began to feel itchy to get away, I stopped.
It was the same day the next day, and the day after that, and all of the days since then. I always begin with Ardha Uttānāsana, but I intersperse a variety of different poses each day. Every day, I feel the same sense of focus and equanimity, and I look forward to that. Every day, it’s only three or four poses, and for now that’s enough. But, I must confess, I guess I DO have a home practice. At least for now.
But don’t worry. Nothing, not a thing, (at this time in my life) is going to stop me from being a class-goer!
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