The Crooked Yogini: Living My Dream to Teach

This is the first in a series of posts by The Crooked Yogini, about my twisty-turney healing journey, with lessons-learned and Try This at Home tips. Hope you enjoy!

I’m delighted to announce, dear friends: I’m living my dream to teach yoga! 

I’ve been hired to teach at the Chincoteague Island YMCA. My class – Yoga for Healthy Spines and Balanced Minds – suits all levels and integrates all I’ve learned since I began my yogic journey over 15 years ago.

According to one beloved Iyengar teacher I worked with along the way:“There’s no problem in the world can’t be solved by yoga.”

Though, back in the beginning, let me tell you: I was a reluctant yogini.

That was an auspicious day, September of 2009 in Washington, DC. I’d run a 10-mile road race – placed fourth in my age group, just shy of a medal. Ran well and hard. Then, the next day, a Monday, I strapped myself to the desk, on a deadline. By the time the week was over – I’d risen to the challenge - got my report to the client – good for me! But I could not rise up out of my chair.

My back had seized-up completely. I had to crawl up the stairs from my home office and into my bed. Forget running: I could not stand or walk, even sit, without mind-numbing, breathtaking pain. Bedridden for days, a kind friend dragged kicking, screaming (and terrified) to her chiropractor.

The doc pointed to the Xray. “I assume you know you have severe scoliosis?”

“That’s not me,” I protested, shielding my eyes from the horror on the screen.

He had not gotten the x-rays mixed up. That snaking spine – with a 45 degree right lumbar Cobb angle and 20-degree thoracic twist – was most sadly, bewilderingly me. “Stop running; take up yoga,” the doctor somberly advised, pressing his finger pads into my inflamed hump.

“Yoga?” I cried, rearing up from the table. I’d been running competitively since age 12. I was a triathlete, century cyclist, hiker, swimmer, skier, tennis player. “Yoga’s for pussies,” I practically spat.

The doctor chuckled at my rude (and ignorant) remark. Luckily, he had a sense of humor. "Do what you want. But this problem isn't going away."

Several weeks later, barely back on my feet, I tried to resume my gym routine. As I lifted weights, attempting to power through the pain, I watched the yoga class gather in the glassed studio. I’d been eyeing them for a week. This time, I got up from the bench, hobbled to the door, snuck into the back, and unrolled a mat.

By the time the one-hour flow class was over, I was sweating and enlivened. Twists, bends, forward, back and upside down – my body had moved in new and amazing ways.

That yoga class was NOT for pussies.

Though the pain hadn’t fully lifted, I noticed my knotted muscles had softened, my mind not quite so fixated. I felt the tiniest bit free. Unbeknownst to me, that was the very beginning of a mindbody healing journey that would lead, eventually, to my own YTT-200 yoga teacher certification in 2019.

Meanwhile...I did not stop running; and the scoliosis was not going to magically disappear. But I certainly did my best to pretend. For 12 years!

Fast forward to 2021. Just as we were emerging out of the pandemic confines, and I was preparing for a one-year sabbatical trip across country, my back seized up, again – only exponentially worse.

This time, I landed in the emergency room. The spine specialist took one look and shook his head. By now, I was 57.  In order to prevent my aging, crooked spine from collapsing further with gravity and time, a sacral-lumbar fusion was necessary, and pronto. He wasn’t going to lie – recovery would not be easy – 6 months to one year.

I sunk into a deep depression. I could not imagine, spine confined by a steel rods and bolts, never again dancing a sultry samba or moving through a fluid vinyasa. I’d rather not mention how the harrowing pain, combined with the prospect of such body- and life-changing surgery, had me in fits of suicidal ideation. 

There’s no problem in the world that can’t be solved by yoga.

Over the next month, I resumed my practice. Down on the floor each day on my mat, moving through and with the pain, I eventually woke UP. Those MDs didn’t know what I knew: I was a yogini; I had the power to heal myself.

Badlands, North Dakota

A month later, I packed my car, and set out on the healing road.

Four years later, here I am – mostly, most days, pain free and stronger, at 61, than I’ve ever been. In fact, I’ve just returned from a cajun-zydeco music festival in which I danced for at least 20 hours over four days. Of course, I practiced yoga every morning and evening on the grassy hill outside my tent.

But I’m here to tell you – yoga is not for pussies. It is for the strongest and most resilient of us. And it is for every body.

So…please join me and the Chincoteague YMCA sangha – our community – in yoga class. Sessions are Wednesdays and Fridays 1230 to 130. Guests passes are available.

And if you cannot make it to the island, tune in to my blog. Here’s where I’ll share Try This at Home tips so you might find relief from the pain and joy in your body – perhaps even discover your own healer within.

Try This at Home

In the morning, as your coffee brews (or tea seeps)...

• Grip the counter.

• Step back, bending at the hips, so that your body’s in an L-shape.

• Relax your neck, gaze down at the floor, and keep your arms straight and strong as you push away from the counter, while pressing the thigh bones back.

• Feel the length in your spine as you inhale a breath up the left side of the backbone – low, middle, upper, and into the skull; then exhale down the right side of the spine into the sacrum.

I call this Counter Dog – or Coffee Dog – or call it Tea Dog, if you will. Alternatively, on a break from the desk during the day, use a porch rail or chair to support you.

• Take several rounds of breaths – elongating the spine, open up the space between the vertebra, as you listen to the coffee pot gurgle.

• Then, as the brewing completes, inhale into your belly, raise your head, step forward to the counter, relax the arms down by the sides, and pour your cup of coffee.

Don’t you feel energized! You may not even need the caffeine, now.