“The hardest part is making it here”.
I’m on Day 3 of a 30-day yoga challenge and I am loving the journey so far. It might sound insignificant, a mere 3-day consecutive yoga bender, but for me, it’s the most routine I’ve had in ages and I feel the benefits both mentally and physically already. It’s already wormed its way into my daily setup: I’ve been looking forward to finishing work so that I can get straight to it and stretch out, after hours of bad posture and being fixed in one static position.
One thing I am discovering is that this yoga practice is serving as a great release in more ways than I anticipated. Yesterday, for instance, in my fourth plank of the session, Adriene instructed us to repeat after her: “I am strong”. I did exactly that and broke into immediate sobs while trying to hold my very shaky plank.
It wasn’t a bad cry. It was a “I’m here and I’m trying and that’s what matters” moment that I wouldn’t have had if I wasn’t involved in that session. This probably isn’t the response that yoga instructors are going for when they incorporate nuggets of self-care in their classes, but I’m very fragile at the moment (which is okay) and it felt like a dam broke in my chest, or like I’d had some epiphany on a therapist’s couch.
The fact that saying those three words had such a profound effect got me thinking. It was a stark reminder of the power of words and what they can do to a person’s mindset instantly. It also reminded me of how little I compliment myself verbally and how much I rely on encouragement/validation from others, just to function in a basic capacity sometimes. I mean, I do affirmations in my mind all the time as part of guided meditations, but there’s really a significant difference in actually articulating those words aloud. Plus there’s nothing wrong with having a great support network to hype you up when you need it, but this three-word powerhouse moment reminded me that maybe I need to start being a better cheerleader for myself.
In that moment, the sound of my own voice asserting “I am strong” was a firm suckerpunch for the nervousness that had been buzzing about in my body all day. It was a “fuck you” to the powerful voice that sustains the negativity in my head and an act of solidarity with every other person out there, watching the same video and turning up to the mat, regardless of the challenges they’re facing in their lives. It was a recognition that we’re all just humans, going through our daily maelstroms of emotion in this weird-ass pandemic and doing our best to live, even when our minds and bodies sometimes don’t want us to succeed. That’s all that counts.
Even on a high-anxiety day, I found the power in myself to try and do the thing I was terrified of after successfully committing to yet another yoga session. The whole time, through almost-tears on two trains and brief walks to the band’s practice space yesterday evening, I told myself I was strong and it worked. I did it. And though it was uncomfortable and scary and challenging and far from a seamless venture out of the house, I DID IT.
I am strong. Not because I’m gliding through life’s obstacles like a hot knife through butter, but because I’m turning up whenever I can and waking up every morning, with the attitude that I’m going to give life another craic, no matter what my chemical imbalance is telling me.
2022 is my year for recognising that a victory is a victory, no matter how ‘small’ it may seem to others. 2022 is the year that I break free from the self-imposed notion that being chronically ill is a life sentence of misery and suffering. Depression and anxiety aren’t illnesses that I ‘deserve’ and they’re not illnesses I can overcome overnight or fully rid myself of. They’re companions that will come and go, and though I find them intolerable at times, I know that deep down, I have what it takes to survive them.
I am strong.
Bookish Pip 