I use my Yoga class in the mornings as part of my devotions. I keep a beautiful icon of Christ on my desk, within easy sight of wherever I am sinking into a pose. I say my mantra prayers as much as I think of them, sometimes the poses get too intense and everything leaves my mind except for the total brute force of staying in a deep lunge for crescent moon, or balancing on one leg with one arm on the ground the other straight up, in twisted half moon.
I have always looked after my body physically. I am a dancer first and foremost, that is why the complex and impossible poses of advanced Yoga appeals to me. I cannot do the complicated poses of grasshopper or flying anything…I content myself with admiring their flawless execution by my instructor from a seated position on my mat.
I was twelve when I discovered ballet and found my natural talent. Even today my feet are gorgous, my body slender. I still am a little on the tall side but while I was in the Lebanon I was scouted by The Joffrey Ballet, a hopeful introduction made by my ambitious teacher to my wary parents. Joffrey take tall, rangy dancers. My parents declined their offer of a place for me at their school. A common “hoofer” was no life for one of their children.
An actor friend of mine at the recent pantomime asked me if I was a dancer, she’d noticed my grace and poise even all these years later. I told her my story and how as a result of my parents’ refusal to let me dance I encouraged my children to follow their dreams. She, in the simple wisdom of youth, said,
“If your parents had allowed you to be a dancer you would probably have discouraged your children from going into their artistic fields.”
True that!
Yoga does not allow the body to be worked alone. My soul and mind, like eager younger siblings, join the physical ride.
When I spent hours in a ballet studio I fought with my body. I forced it into flexibility, pushed it to increase its stamina and starved it to maintain the lightness I felt I needed in order to execute the intricate enchainments. I single handedly damaged my knees, hips and back by thinking only of what I had to do, not of what my body could do. My mind and soul were separate then.
I had no time to consider the breath, it had to come unconsciously with regularity; I could not empty the mind, it stayed cluttered with French terms, technique and turnout; I certainly didn’t bring prayer or meditation into a dance studio, one drift in focus and I fell out of my pirouette, or fumbled a jete, or passed out in mid arabesque.
This year I have finally found how to unite my body, mind and soul.
It did not come quickly I had to consciously remind myself to use my other faculties.
Initially, with all the cautionary warnings about yoga in Christian circles I was worried the hour would unconsciously open my body to non-Christian gods especially with the use of Sanskrit and chanting. Hence my Christ icon to remind me of who I am and the mantras of nursery prayers. As the months passed I realized that for the first time this practise was not only for the body, it was for the mind and soul, it was a prayer, a form of worship a surrendering to a higher being, God.
Even after accepting the holistic teachings of Yoga the application of the disciplines to all three systems did not come naturally. I have worked for over a year both on and off my mat, to take all the hard work I do in my yoga class to all areas of my life.
When I open myself up to a sun salutation I think of God the father; as I bow my head in forward fold, I am paying homage to my Lord and saviour; as I twist my body, my hands in namaste, my heart bright, I feel my body sigh and my stomach churn; as I balance in tree pose I feel the strength in my back and the lack of pain in my shoulders; when I stand tall in warrior two or balance in crow pose I feel the stress float away and I start to smile.
At the beginning of the class we do a short meditation, we tune into our bodies, we relax, we are encouraged to set an intention for the class. I often think of someone who needs my prayers. Our breath is brought into rhythm with the rest of the class and we slow down, we centre ourselves, we enter a full awareness. We are reminded to listen to our bodies, to let go, to brighten, and to soar.
At the end of class we recall our intention and as I lie on my mat in shavasana, corpse pose, I can still my mind to nothing. I am ready for the day.
I am finally learning to be still, to drape, to melt to sink into God’s arms and quietly be.
Well hello there! My name is Vivienne McNeny.
I am an empty nester exploring life as a Boomer…you could say I'm happily Boomering along!
As a homeschooling Mum I have finally quit the job of role model and mentor to my four children. I do what I want to do, eat when I feel like it, enjoy life with my blue eyed cowboy and clean my house once a month or so whether it needs it or not!
In true English form I write about the emergence of my true identity now that I can no longer hide behind my children as their Mum.
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