When I was a young teenager, yoga was nothing like it is now. I mean, the poses were the same but that’s about it. Yoga was this freaky foreign exotic “thing” that hippies did and no one else really knew anything about it. Yogurt (yoga/yogurt – work with me, people) was like that too. Unless you had immigrant parents like I did, and then it was something that was always in your fridge much to your friends’ disgust. Don’t even get me started on kale – another staple at my house and none of my friends’ during the 1970s. I was eating kale and yogurt decades before they were cool. If I don’t live to be 100, I’ll be pissed. But I digress…

When I was a young teenager, I saw a hand-lettered sign outside a church that offered free yoga in the basement. I don’t know how I knew what yoga even was as there was no internet in those days and I lived in a small, conservative southern Ontario town. How did people learn anything back then? I was THERE, back then, and even I can’t figure it out now! I probably read about it or saw it on the news as I was very into counter-culture from a young age and trying desperately to catch onto the tail-end of hippie-dom – I felt cheated by being born just a tad too late to partake in the full glory of it all. Anywho…there I go again, digressing...me and a couple of friends did end up going to the church basement to check out the yoga class being offered.

So, let me set the scene. There is a group of us in this dingy church basement – people are in a variety of outfits. Some of us are in exercise “leotards” – plain black with tights. Some of us are in t-shirts and shorts or sweatpants. We are all shoeless. I forget what the teacher was wearing or anything else about them – I think the teacher was female and youngish but don’t quote me.

There are no yoga mats. We are on the bare floor. There are no yoga blocks, yoga towels, yoga bands, yoga water bottles. No yoga clothes or gear…you get the picture. The instructor leads us through an hour of poses (asanas). There is a shavasana meditation at the end. Mind-blowing! Then we go home. There is no expectation of money changing hands for either party. As I recall, back then it was JUST. NOT. DONE. Yoga instruction was supposed to be freely given. No one taught yoga for the dollahz. There was no yoga “industry” as yet. It was just this weird kind of spiritual-y exercise that almost no one knew about (in my little corner of the world, that is) and I loved it.

A few months later my mom gifted me a little paperback yoga instruction book, written by an Indian lady and on every page was a picture of her (in her leotard) in a new pose with accompanying text on what it did for your body and your health. I used to have the book next to me on the floor of our family room as I tried to enact the asanas on my own, after the church basement yoga sessions had ended. I think by this time there was also a yoga show on American public television, but our house got 2 channels pre-cable so I only found out about it years later.

Then “Aerobics” hit, and I found a new love. I even participated in aerobi-thons, jumping around for hours to raise money for some cause or another. Ahh, the 80s! Scrunchies and leg warmers and neon and slouch-socks. Good times, good times. And leotards that were high-cut and anything but plain black.

I think yoga started being an “industry” around the 90s…I was busy with 2 little kids then on top of working, so most of the late 80s to mid 90s is a bit of a blur to me. But when I could raise my head up again, I noticed there were yoga classes being offered at the community centre and after-hours in school gyms and I started going to these. Still no yoga mats; we used exercise mats instead. No yoga clothes, but our aerobics gear worked well for this. And, it was no longer free. But pretty reasonable, as yet.

I think around 2010-ish our little village got an actual yoga studio – I had been taking classes at the rec centre with this instructor and he had become so popular that it was the next logical step for him to have his own place. Now the classes were getting crowded and pricey – not that I begrudge Mike the money – the studio was/is beautiful and the instruction was/is first-rate. But I couldn’t afford the time or $$ to go more than once per week, and his class schedule and mine didn’t always work out.

I still signed up for yoga sessions from time to time with some very good instructors at my local rec centre, but once a week just wasn’t enough for me and I dreamed of being able to develop a regular and more frequent practice. I bought many yoga DVDs to do at home but they didn’t quite satisfy – either the instruction was lacking or the poses felt rushed or it was beyond my current level. And the background music usually sucked. “When I retire”, I would say, “then I will be able to do more yoga, somehow and somewhere.”

So here I am retired for almost a full month and I am happy to report that I have been successful in starting a regular yoga practice – at home! And boy, do I need it! I have a long way to go to regaining my former state of flexibility, if that is even possible.

I’m so happy that I’ve found my dream instructor, on YouTube – believe it or not! Adriene Mishler as a yoga instructor is absolutely top notch, in my opinion. Yoga with Adriene is a popular website and channel (6 million subscribers, including moi!) with loads of free yoga videos of varying lengths and levels. For me, Yoga with Adriene is like stepping back in time to the early 70s, when yoga was free and yoga teachers seemed to be on a holy mission just to get yoga “out there” to the North American masses.

I’ve started with her beginner videos – going back to the basics with a beginner’s (yet again!) mind – as I begin treating my formerly desk-bound self to some full body stretching and mindful posing.

I’ve made it a lovely ritual – this daily yoga practice of mine – I light candles, put a heavenly scent in my diffuser, and (thanks to my daughter’s recommendation) I cue up DJ Taz Rashid on Ye Olde Spotify, to be the background accompaniment to Adriene’s calming and knowledgeable instruction as I prepare to meet myself on the mat.

And always, afterwards: a lovely bit of shavasana at the end of it all.

ADIDAS – All Day I Dream About Shavasana 😉

Do you yoga?

Namaste and rock on,

The WB