What Can My Body Do?: Lessons I’m Learning From Yoga

I’ve done yoga on and off for about half my life. During eating disorder treatment, I fell in love with it again as an adult. In PHP yoga was done daily, and in IOP it was done once a week. I carried my own mat and bolster with me when I got back to school. Now, I’m attending a Hatha Yoga class twice a week.

In treatment we did restorative, trauma-informed yoga. It focused on being in our bodies, on doing gentle stretches and recognizing what sensations they brought. It was restful, and an important part of our practice was grounded in neutrality. Noticing what felt good that day, how far my legs would let me stretch, and acknowledging the limit without judgement or comment. 

For a long time this was the only type of exercise I was ready for. I didn’t want to return to the toxic mindset of exercise as self punishment, or working out to prove something. I was also scared. I was worried that if I returned to a more intensive form of exercise, my body would have atrophied and I wouldn’t be able to keep up. I still struggled to believe that there was a world of movement that existed outside of my eating disorder. Thankfully, though, I have been proven wrong. 

In Hatha Yoga, we balance the body and the mind, and work within the season of the year. Though the studio is covered in mirrors, we do the vast majority of our exercises with our eyes closed. I don’t spend the session consumed with what I look like. We concentrate on how the breath moves throughout the body, pulling it down through the stomach in a harsh exhale. We focus on where our body exists in space: we must listen to our feet and stay balanced as our weight shifts on the mats without our eyes to guide us. The purpose isn’t to get “fit”, it is to grow the neural pathways that help us be grounded beings (in more ways than one). 

The class begins with gentle stretching, before moving into strength building, and we return at the end to an opening up, and shavasana. However even in the strength building, it is still guided by the breath. Movements are done in rhythm with an inhale and exhale cycle. We are not working our muscles to be toned and look good for summer. We are focusing on protective areas of the body, to strengthen it for the winter, and to strengthen it as we age. We also use our own body parts to challenge us. When we lay on our back, our legs held up in the air, our instructor reminds us that each leg weighs about ten kilos each, and that we are doing this twenty kilo leg lift to challenge our body. No one is comparing how much weight we can lift, no one trying to be the strongest. All of us united in the same efforts together, and all of us struggling to finish the reps of a particularly challenging movement. 

My body is pretty impressive. I’m working it in cool and unexpected ways, learning about new muscle groups and their purpose. And through this movement, I am honoring it and keeping it safe for all of the cool things I want to do in life. I’m not trying to run away from myself either, but connecting. Honoring myself as I am. Treating this mindfulness, and this movement, as self care. When I leave I don’t feel afraid that I didn’t burn enough calories, or that I should have gone harder. In my soreness I know that I’m strengthening my pelvis or my corset muscles. On days that I’m tired, sometimes I push myself to go anyways because I know that I will feel better afterwards. Some days I decide to rest and stay at home. Whatever choice I make, I am listening to my body. 

It is not helpful for me to approach recovery, or exercise, with a goal to eventually return to a certain level of movement. I don’t know how long I will stay in this chapter, where I mostly do yoga and scenic walks. But my enjoyment and my success here has given me confidence that I can keep moving forward, that I am still capable of being strong