The other week Rowan on the Moor suggested that I write a blog about my yoga experiences…

When I moved to my current town back in 1985 I joined a yoga class that I saw advertised in the local wholefood shop. The teacher, L, was one in a million. The class became the basis of my social life. Each week we would attend the class, Yoga 1, and then move on to a local hostelry for Yoga 2. To this day we meet for Yoga 2. Several members of the class have moved away but we all remain dear friends and help each other through life’s trials.

Sadly L’s health failed. As her memory faded we would be doing a posture for ages on one side and she forgot about the other. We all realised the issue so switched at the appropriate time. However, after a few years of this, the class became an endurance, rather than invigorating session for me, so I opted out.

There are as many different types of yoga as there are types of literature - one needs to find the style that suits you now. This might vary over the years. When L was still in her prime a classmate and I tried a few yoga retreats abroad. There was quite a mix of people: those who thought that a yoga retreat was a safe holiday for a single woman, despite having little interest in yoga; others brought their baggage to ‘work through their problems’ like a personal therapy week; one woman clearly fancied the teacher to the extent that it was embarrassing for him and the rest of the class. 

Ultimately none of these trips were very successful though they did provide funny stories. On our return from one such trip L recommended a teacher, J, who organised retreats to a Greek island. When I called J mentioned that she also organised weekends fairly local to me. She suggested that I try a weekend with her, before committing to the expense of a trip abroad.

The weekend was a revelation. All the attendees were busy people, keen to get into the yoga, for a weekend of renewal and relaxation. As well as my regular weekly class with L, I attended two weekend retreats each year with J. She is a brilliant teacher, originally trained by Mr Iyengar himself, but in later years J has incorporated softer aspects from an osteopath and yoga teacher. Iyengar yoga is quite strong and you rarely find older teachers. This mix of soft and strong suits me perfectly. I like the Iyengar way of holding a posture to get all its benefits, then embarking on another posture. Flow yoga isn’t for me as it seems to be more about pretty looks than the intention of each posture.

J has taught me so much:

-     I listen to my body. 

-    When it’s time for me to come out of a posture I do so, even if the rest of the class is still holding it.  

-    I never tolerate pain - postures may be challenging and hard work, but they should never be painful.  

-    A posture is like a railway journey:  I can always make a start, but I don’t necessarily get to the final station, I might disembark at any station along the route, and this station may vary from day to day.

When J offered an additional two weekends a year, I attended all four, and continued to do so until a couple of years ago when J called it a day, just because she is over 80 and her partner over 90. The yoga wasn’t the issue, she was tired of sorting all the admin with the hotel, dining etc.

Over lockdown J offered Zoom classes which helped me immensely to survive the period.

I still attend J’s Zoom class each week and she is still impressively strong and flexible (far more so than me).

Susannah

A Moodscope member