In the twelve years since birthing Grace I have tried to go back to yoga a couple of times. But I couldn't find a class where I felt at ease. The old Iyengar class didn't feel right and it was during family, bed, bath, dinner time. Other classes were too posey, didn't flow or just didn't gel.Some were ridiculously hard despite being pitched at all comers. And then just recently fat yoga became a thing here. But the classes were at not a great time for a single mother with a child too old for babysitters but too young to be left at night. And then there was the Saturday morning beginner's course. And just like pre natal classes, it was just right for just now. Now I'm hoping that a regular Saturday class starts up and thinking about what I could do at home.
Yoga, even what I am capable of right now, feels amazing. It's not just the poses, it's the breath and the intention. It's the being in your body in the now. It's the pushing just to the right edge (although I was a bit sore after yesterday's class, so maybe a bit too far). It's being with other fat women, in community, doing yoga together and not being the only fatty in the class. It's remembering my breath when I feel anxious or weird or stupid. It's many kinds of awesome. Hopefully it will also be a gateway to a new more active self.