A summer’s worth of Bikram Yoga
Transforming the mind and body to listen, adapt, balance, and just…be.
Let me be the first to tell you that I am not a naturally flexible person. I was never gifted with the ability to easily touch my toes without feeling my hamstrings stretch greatly beyond their capabilities, running a pain sensation all the way through from my quads to my heels. Yoga always seemed daunting to me, the practice of putting your body in such seemingly forced positions. It left me wondering why people would ever put themselves through so much pain and torture to “be more flexible”.
That was until I got thrown into the practice of Bikram Yoga.
My first few encounters with Bikram Yoga was in 2011, where it left me feeling “noodly” and still wondering why I would ever choose to put myself in that space, willingly, ever again. Yet months of stress and stiffness all over my body finally drove me to get back into the hot room. I knew yoga had a healing ability, but I had no idea that it would eventually help me heal my mind and body together.
The practice, in theory, is simple. 90 minutes, 26 poses, and one hot, hot room. At 100 degrees, the room feels more like a sauna than a yoga studio. As you enter the room, you are met with a hot burst of air, with a stench of feet and sweat added to it. You set down your mat and towel, somewhere with a fan overtop of you (preferrably). You then look around, and see an array of people; the woman who looks like she’s practiced yoga her whole life, lying down quietly with her eyes closed; some male counterparts, equally still and serene looking; over in the corner you see a couple of newbies, just like you, fidgeting uncomfortably over their towels, unsure of what to do with themselves and this quiet, quiet space; and the numerous others around you, dressed in nothing but a combo of shorts and sports bras. A couple of late-comers rush in as your teacher awakens the room from its quiet slumber and ask you to stand up. Oh god, it’s starting, you think to yourself. And then you begin the slow, excruciating mind and body exercise that promises to make you whole again after 90 long, long minutes.
That is how I started my practice this summer. The first class left me feeling dizzy after four poses, forcing me to sit down and muster up the courage to not leave the heated room. That feeling eventually subsided as I somehow convinced myself to return again and again, day after day to this almost 26 posed torture ritual. And eventually, the feeling was replaced with an appreciation for self-awareness and progress.
As I returned day after day, my perception of yoga evolved along with my flexibility and strength. Yoga slowly changed from being a challenging exercise physically, to a form of communicating between my mind and body. Some nights I felt weak, tight, and unfocused, whereas other nights I felt as if all of me was working together in one channel. Every night was different; based on how much water I drank, how well I fed myself, how much sleep I had, and how my mood was, it all affected my practice. Never before have I felt so much cause and effect than in my yoga practice and daily life. I slowly became more and more aware of what my body needed to feel this amazing sense of wholeness.
Yoga helped me reconstruct my mind and body from the stress and distractions of each day. Whenever I felt extremely drained mentally, I would want to get into the hot room as quickly as I could so I could hit the ‘reset’ button. Somedays it was very hard to focus on my poses, but the magic of yoga is in its inherently calming yet demanding nature for you to let go of everything but the now. To clear your mind of everything that has happened or that have yet to happen, and focus on the one pose in the now. That ability to let go of worries at will is something I call upon during my daily activities. It is so freeing to know that I can just take a deep breath and tell myself, it’s okay, it will pass. This notion of pushing and pulling, persevering and patience in your abilities, all the while accepting imperfection and improvement, is applicable not only in yoga but all the circumstances that life throws at me. For that, I am grateful. I am always grateful for that feeling of release after each yoga session. That feeling of unattachment to all the instances that have affected your day. The fulfillment in letting go, feeling one, and being vulnerable. And most importantly, the amazing feeling of getting to know myself.
For those of you out there who either feel daunted by the practice or the fact that you are inflexible, don’t be. It’s not all about flexibility. Instead, I encourage you to take that first step and keep going, as the rewards are far greater than you have ever imagined.
A summer’s worth of practice at Pure Bikram Yoga Austin.
