How does our Yoga practice make us feel better when we are blue? At both the Center and the Prison I was forced to ask this question this week. In my last post I wrote about while in this I will focus on bereavement in the prison. Both situations address universal spiritual/emotional issues, so I hope you will reflect on how they might apply to your life and share the practices that have helped you with this on-line community. I would be deeply grateful to read your comments and suggestions.
On Tuesday I knew something was up when I saw tears in the eyes of one of my students as we were assembling to be clicked through the locked doorway between their unit and the community room where we have our class. Another student seemed to understand her grief and was tearing up as well. I have to admit, pride reared its ugly head, and I was impressed that one of my students was willing to come to yoga at all when there was a problem, rather than hiding out in her room. I have heard so many excuses for not coming to class! I should not congratulate myself in this instance, however, as this poised inmate has been using every program and opportunity the prison offers to grow and develop her own inner strength as well as to mentor those who reach out to her.
I’ll call her K. With difficulty, K confided that her most beloved brother was killed in a car accident the previous evening. What was I to do?
I babbled the appropriate platitudes as I considered how I needed to adapt my plan of grooving Sun Salutations and some of their variations. Perfect! What could be better for churning strong emotions through the body and digesting them? When my mind is agitated I’ve found that a vigorous practice demands all my attention and gives me an emotional break. Tapas, the fire or discipline of practice, does seem to burn away emotional confusion.
I couldn’t resist centering with a Loving Kindness meditation in which we began by holding her brother or someone we cared deeply for in our minds. I asked K if Sun Salutations appealed to her and with her approval we began to churn through gentle Swan Dives and Squats followed by more vigorous Sun Salutations. Some of my less athletic students had to take breaks during the vinyasa flows, but I sensed that they were content to watch K and to silently encourage her to keep moving through her sadness. I hope they felt that the class would accommodate them when or if the need arises.
After Sivasana, K stayed after class with another sympathetic friend to speak calmly about her brother and her extended family. Although unmarried and childless, K is a devoted sister and aunt. Her family lives out of state and the prison gauges the inmates with its long distance phone rates, $32.00 for 13 minutes, further isolating the women from family support. Her brother used to drive three hours to spend one hour with his sister and then to drive home almost every other week, sacrificing precious time with his spouse and two daughters. None the less, K spoke gratefully of the community she has forged at York, a circle of women within which she feels safe and nurtured.
I am honored to bare witness to the emotional needs and strengths of the women. Sometimes they feel invisible and I believe that by writing about the healthy manner in which some of them are nurturing themselves, building trust and community, I can enable their lights to shine outside the prison walls.