“I just can’t do a Headstand”: And other things I’ve learned after 10 years of practicing yoga
It started 10 years ago, when my back hurt so much I couldn’t sleep. I was 17 and already had severe back problems. I was tall, naturally skinny (but having doubts about that), ex-catwalk model (yep, already by the age of 17) and extremely outgoing. I was doing some occasional exercise — a bit of running (I hated it but made myself do it because it was good to “burn calories”), karate, (I quit after 6 months because the training was too hardcore) and dancing. Dancing was cool, but I preferred to dance all night rather than going to dance class. I was drinking a lot, doing drugs occasionally and had no idea what to do with my life. And, most important, my back was killing me. One doctor told me that I was totally fine: the problem wasn’t really with my back, I was just a tall teenager (185cm, just over 6 foot). My bones were growing. Just wait and it will pass.
I didn’t want to wait. I wanted to do something. Somehow I found my way to a morning yoga class. Two times per week, from 7.30am to 10.00am. Two and a half hours and only 3 people in the group, including me. This is how it started. My first yoga mat was a mat I bought in the home supplies store — the kind you’d usually put in the bathroom. I didn’t know better.
First months were dreadful: I wasn’t flexible but I was impatient. The asanas (poses) were weird, my hands were slippery, the breathing techniques — misleading, the terms the teacher was using — obnoxiously strange. I felt totally lost, as if I clearly wasn’t getting this yoga hype (which wasn’t as loud back then as it is now with our “detox-bio-eco” mad culture). The only thing which made me stay and continue going to classes was how good I felt afterwards. After each class my body was pleasantly tired, I felt inspired and empowered and, most importantly, my back pain was gone. After 3 months of regular practice, I thought that my back was fixed and I could stop practicing. I did. Ta-da, the back pain was back again almost immediately. So I decided to commit to yoga.
At first it was pure exercise. I copied postures from my teachers, combining them with the breathing techniques they taught me. I didn’t think at all about the whole philosophy behind it. I saw the results: the pain was gone, my body was stronger, I looked and felt better. So it worked. I was blessed I (can’t find a better word, really) to have extremely good teachers from the very beginning. All of them had spent years studying and teaching yoga. For some reason all of them — Svetlana, Liudmila, Yulia, Rita, Egle, — were invested in me as a student. After 3 years of hatha and vinyasa yoga practice I realised that I didn’t want to stop anymore. I couldn’t.
From that point on I was doing yoga everywhere I went: Russia, Lithuania, Ukraine, India, Japan, Germany, the US, Switzerland and many other places I lived or visited. Eventually (not straight away), I grew interested in learning more about the philosophy of yoga. It was much deeper than I first thought. I had to learn acceptance, obedience, and, most important, patience. It went beyond my yoga practice. In short: it changed my life.
After 8 years of practicing yoga, I did a 200 hour Teacher Training Course and started teaching. By then, I felt I could share something special with others. I felt that I was strong enough to pass on something good. That was my own humble way to contribute to making this world a better, happier place. This is exactly what yoga does — it makes you happy. But only if you do it with your heart and soul, not just with your body and brain. It doesn’t work if you’re doing it because you have to, because of the hype, because you want to be slim and want to get those “perfect abs” — only if you’re practising because you just want to and you’re all in. I guess you have to be ready for the fact that you won’t fall in love with yoga immediately. It teaches you that the practice itself is the goal, not the results. This requires a major shift in thinking. Yes, you might get to that Headstand but in 20 years. Or might not get there at all. But the most important question is why do you think you need to nail that Headstand or whatever it is? Yoga requires patience. It slowly kills your ego. And it feels so damn good.
So what else did I learn in 10 years of yoga? No, I didn’t learn how to do a Shirshasana (Headstand). Instead, I learned that it’s okay that I can’t do it (yet) and I’m still working on my fears which stop me from getting there. I learned that neither Headstand, nor other badass looking poses are the goal of my own, unique practice. I can’t do Hanumanasana (Monkey Pose), but I learned that I need to accept the current limits of my body and love it with all my heart, no matter what. It wasn’t easy. It’s much easier to compare yourself to others in the class and get angry with yourself. I learned to focus on what’s happening only on my mat, in my life and stop comparing it to some yoga rockstars, work colleagues or friends. My Baddha Konasana (Bound Angle Pose) still sucks if you compare it to Iyengar, but I learned how to make the most of it, how to make it work for my own body. After 10 years I still use straps, blocks and pillows constantly. These are not my crutches, these are my helpers. I learned not to feel guilty that I’m not “good enough” because I can’t do it “the perfect way”. In my everyday practice I don’t do those crazy balances which are hot and trending on Instagram but I can teach Bakasana (Crow Pose) because I know the anatomy behind it. I can’t hold my breath for 5 minutes during Pranayamas (breathing techniques), but I can breath deep and calm during the day, not only during my yoga practice. I don’t have “the perfect” 6 cubes but I am very strong and I finally love my body. I love it. I do. And I am thankful for it and I celebrate it during my yoga practice: both its strength and its limits. No, I don’t necessarily practice every day and if I do, sometimes it’s only for 5 minutes. I practice not because “I have to”, I practice not because I want to nail some asanas and proudly share them on social media. I do it because I love it and it makes me feel so exceptionally good. Sometimes it’s easy and my movements flow, sometimes it’s so challenging that I just want to quit. But I don’t. In these 10 years I have learnt to listen to myself and accept myself, to continue my journey even when it’s hard. With patience.
These 10 years gave me more than I can be thankful for. Yoga taught me not only how to build strength in my muscles and flexibility in my joints: with its help, I finally realised what I really want in life and, even more importantly, what I don’t. Yoga helped me to build a strong relationship which turned into a happy marriage; yoga helped me to pass happily through pregnancy and give birth to a wonderful child; yoga helps me every day to love, to accept and not to fear. All this might sound like a cliche but it’s just the truth. And yes, sometimes I do get angry, moody, anxious, impatient and lazy. I eat chips and cookies. Sometimes I go to bed late. I can enjoy a glass of good wine during lunch. Yoga didn’t turn me into a saint, it just made me a better, happier person.
I know that this is just the beginning. I can’t just stop anymore. And if I ever did, not only would my back pain likely return, I’d lose myself, the person I became during these years of yoga practice. I don’t want that. This is why I roll out my mat today. And tomorrow. And whenever I feel like. And hopefully I’ll be doing the same when I’m 100 years old.
