I found that day's yoga class to be particularly challenging, as evident by the growing puddle of sweat collecting at the edge of my mat. My frustration built steadily as the yogi called out the names of poses I did not recognize and the women on either side of me gracefully contorted their lithe frames on cue. I did everything within my power not to focus on the students around me and instead completed the poses to the best of my ability. By the time we reached shavasana I was both physically and mentally exhausted.
|Look ma, no sleeves!|
Anyway, it was with great relief that I found myself resting on my back, eyes closed in shavasana. I've heard that a lot of people use this time to meditate or let their minds go blank. As a certified control freak, this is not an easy task for me but on this day shavasana did provide some clarity. As I considered my own issues with my body I focused on the one thing that has been a constant for me both now and at my heaviest weight - shame. I was ashamed of how I looked then, ashamed that I allowed myself to get to that place, ashamed that it took me so long to change, that my change happened so slowly and that I'm still not where I'd like to be. I couldn't let go of my "before" long enough to see the "after". That is some heavy shit to carry around, infinitely more so than the pounds I've already dropped.
As my breathing deepened I vowed to look back more positively on my experience; to be proud that I did make those changes and that I have come as far as I have. If I don't want my appearance to be scrutinized or judged by others I sure as hell can't allow that behavior from myself. A deep sigh escaped my lips, as if releasing the emotions I've held on to for so many years. The yogi's voice broke the silence of the room and as I opened my eyes, I smiled...
|"Before" and "During" ... To be continued|