Gentle is as Gentle Does

I went to a Gentle Yoga class today.  My studio just started this type of class and this week the classes were free, so I thought I’d go. Now “gentle” is not a word that is ever used to describe me but I figured this class was something I would do to take care of myself after exerting me body heavily earlier in the week. I find it amusing that my sore muscles help me feel justified and less guilty in taking a gentle yoga class rather than the regular. Like I need a reason to be kind to my body or to take it slow for a change. 

As it was, and with only a small amount of guilt, I was looking forward a languid yoga practice. I thought I’d come out of it and write about how nice it was to shift gears for a change. How my body thanked me and how my mind was calm and serene like a placid lake. But such was the case.

I’m not sure if the teacher was nervous about having another teacher (who was on a mat next to me) in class, or if she in her spry youth thought she was being gentle by forgoing arm balances, or if she figured gentle meant simply talking in a soft voice. Whatever the case, this flow was not gentle. 

A quarter way through class and I was getting annoyed. What was with all these standing sequences? My core was hurting from earlier in the week and I didn’t come to this class to do a series of Boat crunches. I guess others in the class were surprised, as well as many of them spent a third of the class in Child’s Pose. “Couldn’t she see that she needed to lay off a bit?” I thought as I didn’t what seemed to be my millionth Chaturanga. “Dancer? Really?” I grumbled as I tried to keep my balance while extending my leg back. It was only as I took an optional shoulder stand that I realized that I was being the ridiculous one.

The class wasn’t bad at all. It was my expectations of what it should be that were the cause of my disgruntled attitude. It was also my expectations towards (surprise) myself. I had come there hoping someone would tell me it was ok to take it easy. I find it hard not to push myself when the options are given, if I’m physically able to do them. But just as I don’t need an excuse to take a gentle class, I don’t need an excuse to take it easy on myself. Any class I take can be as gentle or as hard as I want it to be. I can learn from my fellow yogis in Child’s Pose. They were listening to their bodies and honoring what was right for them that day. 

With Savasana came a new appreciation. So after class, when the studio owner asked how I liked it, I was able to truthfully smile and say “Wonderful.” 

Mind, Body and Food

Nutrition has always been one of my passion. I have a degree in Dietetics and though what I do for a living does not involve it, I’ve continued to study it over the years. Trends come and go but my outlook has always been a holistic one – if we listen to our bodies, they will guide us. Though I always believed this, even when it wasn’t popular to do so, I had to learn and re-learn it for myself.

My mom and various female relatives were always on diets while I was growing up. I had been a skinny kid, but when I hit puberty, I started to gain a little weight. Like a rite of passage, I started dieting. I lost weight. Suddenly, this was something I could control. It became an obsession and I spent many years with my own food and body image wars. I counseled moderation to all because I knew this was right, but I was never a moderate person, myself. I had trauma and pain inside and had no way to express it but with food. It became a solace, an enemy and a symbol. It also became a tunnel I had to go through to come into a new understanding of who I was and what I believed in. In some ways, it continues to be but I do have a new sense of peace and of coming home. 

I have a new reverence and respect for this body of mine. I’ve discovered that I’m not the exception to the rule. It too is wise. My throat constricts, my shoulders rise, my jaw clenches even before I know I’m anxious. When there is a hollowing in my chest and an ache behind my eyes I realize something must have made me sad. My stomach is the loudest to speak. I’ve fought battles with it over the years, but truth be told, it is perhaps the wisest of all. 

So, I’ve learned to listen very carefully to what my body is telling me. Especially, when it comes to hunger. My mouth may want brownies, but this usually is a passing fancy. True craving comes from deeper in my torso and more often than not is for something nutrient dense. I try my best to honor it with what it needs to run effectively and not to stress it too much with food it cannot handle. And I continue to refine my understanding with as much gentleness as I can. I gave up diet coke and artificial sweetener last year. I never thought I would, but I knew I didn’t need it and the timing was right. And while I keep a mind to what my body needs, I’m compassionate enough to recognize that sometimes a bite (or two) of chocolate is just the thing. So I savor that bite for all it’s worth. If I’m going to indulge, I’m going to enjoy every minute of it.

My nutrition counseling now comes not only from a philosophical belief in what was right, but from the ingrained understanding of true experience. And as my experience continues, I continue to learn. And I continue to evolve.