The Yoga & Ayurveda Story I Don’t Want to Tell

The Chapters of My Health History I Don’t Want to Remember

Senior year. Big hair and a big zit by my mouth I tried to cover up for the picture.

My digestion and skin issues began when I was 16 and continued until about a year ago. That’s 33 years.

My body remembers regularly being doubled over moaning with constipation until I was able to “relieve” myself. The day my ex-boyfriend yelled “What’s wrong with your face?” down a crowded hallway is seared into my high school brain, and years later when a friend actually gasped and asked the same question after a sweaty yoga class something inside me broke.

I grew up during the processed food revolution of the 70s and low-fat, high sugar 80s. I loved Kraft mac and cheese and Little Debbie cakes. I’d eat cherry Duncan Hines frosting with a spoon. Most of my vegetables were frozen or from a can. Mom cooked fabulous homemade food too, but we had no idea how toxic the stuff from the middle aisles of grocery was for our bodies. Between the food “choices” I made, hormones (including birth control pills), and the stress of getting serious about academics, my system was a wreck. But, of course, I didn’t know this at the time. I thought this was just normal stuff I had to deal with. Buck up buttercup.

I’d silently bear the cramping in my gut as I struggled to get through a day and at other times I had to miss classes and events. I’d skipped classes and events because my acne left me feeling hideous and repulsive. I spent thousands of dollars on doctors, medicines and make-up. I did every special diet that seemed like it could help. Diagnosed with IBS, I was told to not eat gluten or dairy. I was in my own personal hell. 

I’d envy those who rolled out of bed with clear skin because I’d wake up immediately anxious about how to sneak into the bathroom and “fix my face” before anyone could see me. I’d sleep as much as I could hoping the rest would help heal me or at least I could put off having to deal with the mirror — or having to eat. 

I was young and wanted to be alive in the world, but felt half dead. A naturally gregarious person who loves to joke around, I was having trouble looking people in the eye because I was too ashamed of my face. I was hiding when all I wanted was to be free. When I changed my college major from graphic design to history – and then began reading about all the shit things humans have done to each other over the ages – this added to my distress. I felt sad, angry, anxious, disgusting and depressed. It was like being sucked into a blackhole. But it was the mid 90s, and we got a pill for that. When I was 20, they started me on Zoloft and then Wellbutrin. That should fix it, right?!? 

Yoga 101 and 102

I first learned about yoga in my textbooks, and years later as a young teaching professional, I began to practice asana during my lunch hour at a nearby gym to help manage my weight and stress. I did my first yoga training to get tools to use in my classroom, and when I began to integrate mindfulness techniques to help students with their anxiety and focus, the positive impact was palpable. If I had a dollar for each time I heard, "My mom needs this!" – I would have some dollars. 

When I changed jobs, I changed fitness routines and yoga sat on the back burner until a colleague brought it up in conversation. She told me about the yoga studio where she practiced and invited me to join her. It was hot yoga with strenuous physical practice, and I did not like it at all. I didn’t feel fit enough to hang with the other practitioners and didn’t want people to see my inflamed skin when I’d be dripping after class. But, then my naturopathic doctor told me I needed to cleanse my liver with sweat so I gave it another shot. 

The Heat – and the Game – is On!

It didn’t take long for me to get strong. I remember looking down at my arms in the shower and being excited about my triceps. I’d never had visible muscle definition before and had lost a few pounds. My skin wasn’t any better, and my digestion was still a mess, but at least I was rocking a 40 year old hard body. It gave me a sense of control I hadn’t felt before. Being a passionate go-all-in-kinda-gal, I signed up for yoga teacher training a few months later. I wanted to learn more. Curiosity is at the core of this kitty. 

Yoga teacher training (YTT) was the kind of challenge I liked. It exposed me to some ideas I’d not heard before and some ideas I thought aligned with the epistemology content I taught in my high school classes. I bonded with the other people in my cohort, my “littermates” as I called them,  and felt a sense of community in the studio. After graduation, my teaching experience allowed me to easily get on the schedule and I’d get positive feedback for how rigorous and playful my yoga classes were. It seemed like a natural expansion of my life’s purpose. 

Being who I am, it did not take long for me to begin volunteering to help wherever I could in the studio. I’d make suggestions for fundraisers and take the lead on events. I’d make all sorts of suggestions to the owners about possible improvements, and they were receptive and thankful for my interest and energy. At some point, they asked me to create an official title for myself, so I went with “Creative Services Director” on my new business cards. I also brought former high school students to the studio, and they enrolled in YTT.

A Career Change — and Other Changes, too.

In 2017, I transitioned out of my 20 year career in public education studio co-ownership. I was ready to mix things up, make my own schedule, and since I had always put in long hours, I felt prepared to be in business. I enthusiastically embraced my new role. Teaching classes, leading yoga teacher trainings, and managing the two-location business was a lot of work, and I often taught back-to-back evening classes not eating dinner until after 9p. My overall health began to decline and my guts and skin got even worse. I was in perimenopause. I was dizzy, my ears rang constantly, and my muscles were twitching. I woke up with headaches. But, I was “managing it”. 

Then covid hit, and I worked mad hours on the computer to transition the business. When George Floyd was murdered and BLM erupted, my mental health began to take a turn. I couldn’t sleep and then when I could, I could not get out of bed. My body hurt. The protocols my naturopathic and functional medicine doctors had me on to treat SIBO and SIFO diagnoses  – intermittent fasting, eating only lean protein and green vegetables, and handfuls of aggressive supplements  – were actually contributing to my inability to recover. Of course, I didn't know that at the time.

This was when my business partner suggested I try Ayurveda. I was hesitant because it seemed to contradict so many of the things “modern alternative medicine” prescribed. Despite thinking if I just stuck it out a little longer, the fact was I was getting worse and not better. I was near rock bottom and desperate for a solution, so I pivoted and gave it a shot.

Hale Pule Hallelujah!

In 2020, I met Myra Lewin, founder of Hale Pule Ayurveda and Yoga. This soft-spoken woman with flowing gray hair asked me many of the same questions other doctors had, but her recommendations for after care were markedly different.  I did not like what she had to say. Rather than more (supplements), she suggested I do less. Less heat, less computer time, less work, less hot yoga, less conflict in my primary relationships. Almost my entire lifestyle was causing my decline into disease. I was stupefied. How could I change all this? I owned a hot yoga studio. I had commitments. But if I was going to do it, I was going to really go for it. She stopped me right there.

She said I needed to do less and as I moved toward “sattvic” living and to do this by changing things slowly. So I began to change the things I could, a few at a time. A year later I was feeling better, but there were still some major aspects of my life that continued to contribute to my dis-ease, and until I addressed these underlying causes, I would be simply putting on bandaids. 

In the summer of 2022, I walked away from my studio and ownership. It was rough and felt something akin to spiritual heartbreak. During that same time one of “my girls”, a beloved that lived in my home with couple of other young women mentees, took her life. My mental health was compromised. I could not process all that was happening. At one point I think I had a series of nervous breakdowns. I had never experienced anything like that before in my life. I didn’t understand what was happening to me.

Subtle Approaches to Sooth my Nervous System — and Soul

I first studied Kristine Weber’s nervous system-focused yoga in 2018-2019 with her on-demand courses “The Science of Slow” and “The Yoga and Neuroscience Connection”, and it greatly influenced how I taught my Yin classes and trainings. In 2022, she may have popped back into my feeds because of some of the things I was googling — “how to manage my mental health”, “symptoms of a nervous breakdown”, “when to check into a mental health facility”. Like I said, things were rough. 

I had taken a break from my yoga practice for a couple months by now, but something about what she said and the way she said it spoke to me. She was a self-described middle-aged mom and her calm, grounded voice and sense of humor lit a little spark in me where my pilot light had gone out. I was tender and raw, but still willing to be curious and learn. I completed her “Subtle Yoga for Enhancing Trauma Recovery” and then immediately signed up for just about every on-demand course she had to offer. I also enrolled in her “Subtle Yoga Resilience Society” and got a chance to take live yoga classes from her. She began the Resilience Society right after covid hit and had an extensive bank of classes and workshops each with a monthly theme. So, I went back to the beginning because I wanted to understand her foundational teachings. 

Her approach was vastly different from my original yoga training. She emphasized yoga for the nervous system and her classes were slow, steady and left me feeling centered. At first, I was conflicted because something inside me resisted not “getting a workout” during my yoga practice. When I read one of her journal questions in our monthly handout, “Are you okay doing a less physical yoga practice? How does it support you in the refinement of your identity?”, I wept. Nailed it Kristine. Well done.

It was a refinement in my identity. The last several months had been. I was not who I was before, and could not be if I wanted to regain my health. Myra taught me that. And Kristine was reaffirmed it.

A Change of Scenery

I grew up outdoors in Pennsylvania woods, fields and equestrian arenas. After doing Agni Therapy with Myra, I realized after I had started practicing yoga, I stopped spending time in nature. The yoga studio had become my ecosystem. That lifestyle consumed my time and energy and left me out of sync with my natural rhythms. Ayurveda teaches that one of the primary causes of disease is misuse of the senses, and I had unknowingly been abusing mine for years. When you know better, you do better, Maya Angelou tells us, so I set about to correct my habits. 

One morning I woke up and knew I needed to walk. The Caminos had come a-callin. So I laced up my crusty sneakers and took to the Bend trails. I got sunshine on my face, and my eyes feasted on beauty. I picked sage and smelled it as I strided. Walking became my new fitness and yoga, rather than being a punishment, became a loving respite. I had never thought yoga could or should be so gentle. What I came to realize was that I didn’t want my yoga practice to kick my ass, I wanted my yoga practice to be a soft place for me to land and tend to my inner landscape. Life is hard enough, my yoga practice didn’t need to be. 

The Softer Side of Things

I once tried to find balance with Yin Yoga, unknowingly compensating for the overstimulation caused by power yoga. The attempt to “burn off stress” (lower my cortisol levels) by exclusively practicing power yoga led my nervous system into hyperarousal, resulting in hypervigilance, anxiety, anger, and agitation then boomeranged me into hypoarousal, characterized by numbness (smoking too much weed), poor self-care, and boundaries. My narrow 'Window of Tolerance' hindered appropriate responses, leaving me more easily spun out, and then prone to shutting down and depression. Despite a fit appearance, my mental well-being began to deteriorate. The way I was practicing yoga was actually harming me, but I believed doubling down would improve things, and blamed myself when it didn't. This was not healthy, but it was the devil I knew, and ya gotta start somewhere. What can be learned can be unlearned.

Happy Endings Happen

As I’ve completed more therapeutic Ayurvedic programs, practiced Subtle Yoga, and been in talk-therapy, I’ve learned and implemented a gentler approach to life. It has taken me a while to get used to it, but the proof is in the pudding. I look back on the health issues that felt like a plague with relief and gratitude. I’m so grateful to no longer be managing chronic pain because Ayurveda helped me address the root causes. I’m so grateful to have broken free from my shame and self-punishment, and to have a yoga practice that feels safe and sacred. 

I am truly healthy now. My eyes are bright and my skin glows. My guts can easily grind through greasy street tacos. I have healthy boundaries, and my mind is tranquil even when I’m dealing with distressing situations. It doesn’t mean everything is perfect, but it means when life’s storms arise, I can center myself, ride it out and emerge stronger. Happy endings do happen and can if we are willing to take responsibility for what we can control and let go of what we can’t. That’s serenity right? May we all be happy, healthy, serene, silly, and free from suffering. Let it be so, Aho.