A sangha member’s yoga journey

Covid was when I took up yoga for a second time – seriously and consistently.

My first foray happened while I was working in Beijing in the early 2000s. Those classes were always in studios and in the company of leotard ladies. Yoga felt like a lifestyle choice. This second time began online (due to lockdowns), with a hotchpotch of people bending and flexing in their living rooms, bedrooms and balconies, mostly in t-shirts and shorts. They looked unglamorous, which was very reassuring because they looked like they were in this for real, rather than pursuing some trend.

Over time, I figured out that I was in the company of enthusiasts who were seriously committed to yoga as a practice, because they stayed on even after the lockdowns were lifted. Some even showed up for in-person classes when they were offered. I began to call them my sangha. Mei, our yoga teacher whose day-job is a geriatric specialist doctor, also had taken pains to turn what looked like a physical practice inwards, slowly and firmly encouraging us to focus on our breath, our chakras and our spirit. If she weren’t also my friend, I would have dismissed her as a charlatan, as I normally do with the “la la” types. But I kept telling myself: she’s a medical doctor who spends time teaching us yoga. Why would she “sell snake oil”? She really must believe what she practices. I’m glad I stuck with her.

Today, I practice spiritually too. Yoga is so much about the breath. Without the awareness of breath, there is no yoga. If the breath does not flow, there is no awareness of body. Without breathwork, there is no awareness of limits and possibilities – which is another way of describing self-awareness. The physical practice becomes secondary with the breath at the center. Whenever erratic breathing dominates my practice, I know I haven’t entered into it fully.

These days, Mei has added sitting meditation into the practice. I see sitting meditation as just an extension of bodily yoga. All yoga is meditation if breath anchors it. Meditation simply adds to yoga as a spiritual practice, and makes our sangha feel even more real. We still wear unglamorous t-shirts and shorts, but some of our yoga mats have come up in the world: we are bringing to class Liforme mats in different shades. We are evolving in so many ways.

Where is my practice headed? I hope it guides me through life, in sickness and in health, through earthly corporate jobs and in retirement, till death do us part. In the moment before I pass on, I hope I take a steady breath, made possible by decades of committed practice. I can’t take my Liforme mat with me, but I can carry memories of our deep practice into the next life.

Namaste, Jason