Tying myself up in knots taught me how to breathe again

Yoga isn’t easy, but it’s helped me find comfort in everyday life.
“Now slowly bring your leg back up, finding length in your upper body”.
My core was burning. My arms were starting to buckle.
“Continue to find ease as you reach your left arm outwards, finding extended tabletop pose, or Dandayamana Bharmanasana.”
All I was finding was trembles, vibrations and shakes. Anything but ease.
The instructor darted his eyes my way.
“If you are feeling the burn, that is a good thing, listen to your body. If it is too much, you can always bring yourself back to the ground, this is always open to you.”
To my ears, this idea of finding comfort, of taking a pause to find relief, sounded like quitting. I am an endurance runner after all, and our mantra is “no matter what, keep moving forward.”
Leg cramp? Stretch it out and keep moving forward. Running out of breath? Slow the pace down, but keep moving forward. Overcooked it running up a hill that was steeper than you thought? Tough luck champ, keep moving forward.
Digging into the stubbornness born from years on the road, I continued twisting and straining, concession was never an option.
Everyone around me was quite light on their arms. We were all doing the same stretches and poses, but there was a familiar ease to their movements.
The elder lady to my left, a retired baker, was deeply focused, moving seamlessly between shapes, here speeding up, there prodding down, gently easing back up, flowing and bubbling.
To my right, the man who I would later learn was an amateur rugby player, followed the same patterns of motion. Heaving and sinking, lifting and receding, stretching and reaching all the while engaged, but not tense.
Then, when he had had enough, he slowed down and eased back onto the mat, head gently buried into the ground.
We were now in downward facing dog. My shoulders and hips were on fire, this yoga thing was a lot more intense than I thought walking into my inaugural class.
Sensing my growing discomfort, the instructor set his eyes on me again.
“For those new to the practice, focus on how you feel. It doesn’t have to be perfect, just find what feels good to you, and remember, the mat is always open as a rest place for you. Find comfort and ease.”
With the instructor’s permission, I eased down onto the mat, took a silent bow and rested for a few moments. Heavy panting eased into controlled, steady breathing, the ground below me providing support and anchoring.
It was a different feeling than I typically associated with physical activity. This felt like a gentle hug from the ground, not the tooth-biting endurance I was used to. I felt easy and light.
I stayed there for another five minutes, as the room around me continued their twists and stretches and mantras and poses. Mr Rugby Player and Mrs Former Baker were now standing upright, arms aloft to the ceiling as if reaching for the sky.
My muscles now eased, and strength now returned, I joined them as we folded over towards our feet and then back up again, now feeling a bit of the lightness in myself I had seen in my peers.
“And to close off today’s practice,” said the instructor, “let’s take a moment in corpse pose, Savasana.”
This was the final resting shape, reminding us of our connection to the earth, and our ability to surrender.
“As you ease into the pose, remember to relax your body, to give your mind a moment to find quiet. Forget about the troubles that you may have outside of this room. Let go and focus on your breath.”
We lay down for a few more moments, relaxed and at ease, letting our breath catch up to us.
“Thank you all for joining today. Take a breath, take a moment for yourself and remember the mat is always open to you.”
Whenever I need comfort, whenever I look for calm in daily life, I remember these words from my first ever yoga class.
Sometimes the mat looks like a yoga mat. Other times it looks like a warm cup of tea, first thing in the morning, or a quiet walk in the middle of the work day. And, on rare occasions, like a walk break in the middle of an endurance race.
Comfort is always there, it is our choice to claim it. The mat is always open to you.




