Yoga and therapy? That's a stretch
By Dinah Cardin
Friday, January 21, 2005
Printed with permission of
Community Newspaper Company
For reporters, where does the writing end and our lives begin? Well, all this
talk about holistic health has me taking my herbs and vitamins these days. And
in the spirit of reporting on alternative medicine this week, I underwent a
Transformative Yoga Therapy Session. This was certainly a holistic experience
that focused on my mind, heart and body.
I went into it knowing nothing. Just that the name implied it would combine the
head work of the couch with the physical work of yoga. I take a few yoga classes
here and there and have been trying to go more regularly. But there was
something more complete about this.
When Jennie Lee, owner of Stillness in Motion Studio in Newburyport, offered me
this free session so that I could understand her work, I pictured an afternoon
of arms outstretched in Warrior II pose, tears streaming down my cheeks as I
recounted stories of rejection, bad breakups and being lost in the grocery store
as a little kid. There's something about throbbing pain during impossible
contortions that could no doubt bring on the waterworks.
It didn't exactly go like that, but did combine the often sedentary counseling
session - when even a pat on the back as your therapist walks you to the door
can seem forced after an hour of face-off - with the physicality of yoga, which
is often the coming together of 25 mute bodies in a room.
Jennie Lee is originally from southern California, where this kind of thing
apparently happens all the time. Having someone want to listen to my most honest
ramblings and then ask me not how that makes me feel, but exactly where it makes
me feel, is just more open than we in New England are usually capable of being.
In this part of the country we're famous for our "analysis," as Woody Allen
would say. Neurosis is what makes us interesting to one another. But saying it
all while sitting cross-legged on a cushion in form-fitting yoga pants and a
tank top is just more vulnerable than life usually gets here.
The California girl's studio is in a lovingly restored historic brick building
on Prince Street. Flowing curtains and hypnotic music awaited my harried arrival
and the frustrations of the day did seem to slightly melt before we even
started.
Though she appears to be a physical specimen of perfection, Jennie is not
threatening. She glides across the polished wooden floor on a gray day in her
tight, brown, velvety pants, her dark satiny bangs falling over one eye. Her
skin and smile are without flaw. Face it, you could hate this girl.
But Jennie has packed a lot into her 39 years of life. During her first
experiences with yoga, she used the mat to work through her anger. She speaks
openly of her struggle to overcome loss, grief and depression after surviving
the deaths of a parent, a child and a partner as well as two divorces. This
makes her incredibly empathetic. And she says she continues to believe in the
power of love, which makes her incredibly inspiring as well.
I recounted for Jennie the particulars of my life these days, which would add up
to a pretty impressive number on the Richter scale of stress.
The body, Jennie says, is a "storage depot" for all the things we have
experienced and felt over the course of our lives. Our biography, she says, is
our biology. God, think of the crying jags, the bitterness, the hurt. But also
think of the impossible-to-stifle giggles, the birthday surprises, the
snowfalls, the beach days, old friends and the unexpected moments of actually
getting it right.
One local woman recently completed an experiment of sorts, undertaking 30
successive days - and these sessions don't come cheap. Each day she was able to
benefit a little more from one point of the triangle: the spiritual, physical or
mental part of it. That's why Jennie's oft-repeated mantra is, yoga meets you
where you are.
After our talk, Jennie took me through some actual prescribed yoga, just for me.
She was able to make adjustments to my alignment and activate some pressure
points, things you don't always get in a crowded yoga flow class. We went into
deep stretching poses and held it. All the while breathing from the diaphragm,
imagining billowy clouds, as if speeded up on film, rolling into the stressed
areas of my body. (Deep cleansing breaths are apparently the easiest and
cheapest form of healing available these days.)
While holding a slightly uncomfortable pose that engages the legs, stomach
muscles and backside, she asked what I do when things get difficult. Ah,
metaphor. I said I couldn't tell her, because for once, that's when I clam up
and conserve my energy. This happens whenever I'm stuck on a bumpy flight or
accidentally open up my thumb with a letter opener, as I recently did.
In the spirit of metaphor, we encountered another physical challenge that
involved a back bend and touching the red wall behind me. I admit to cheering
upon successful completion of this task after a couple of tries.
The whole experience was incredibly relaxing. No judgement. No intimidation by
an army of willowy yogis in the room. Just knowing someone has cared exclusively
for your whole being for a solid hour is something worth going back for.
So now the trick is to take learned lessons, as they say, off the mat ...
Dinah Cardin is Staff Writer for the Current. E-mail her at dcardin@cnc.com.
