by Brenda Haak

Created on: February 05, 2007   Last Updated: April 23, 2007

Recently, I treated myself to some private yoga sessions. It all started with a Thai massage on December 23 a personal Christmas splurge. The holiday shopping, giving, and attempting to not go into debt, season had been stressful, I was finishing up a demanding semester at the University of Pennsylvania, where I am a graduate student, and we were wrapping up the December issue of the magazine where I work the biggest issue of the year. All of this was in addition to deciding if my long-term romantic relationship would have a future and an upsetting disagreement with a good friend at the studio I typically call home. Suffice to say I was feeling stressed! As I usually do during times of turmoil, I turned to yoga for serenity, balance, piece of mind and answers.

It quickly became apparent that my level of emotional stress was closely tied to the focus and dedication inherent in my practice. As my stress increased, my attendance at classes grew to nearly every evening. For an hour and a half each day I could nudge my practice deeper, while attempting to stay "out of my head." Not surprising, shavasana transformed into the most difficult pose of the evening. I just couldn't relax.

A few weeks later, the stress in my life culminated and for five days I was unable sleep. It felt as though everything familiar was changing, and I was left wandering through a maze of unfamiliar discomfort and loneliness. Every sleepless night that passed left me feeling as though the world was a surrealist Dali painting. Nothing seemed real. I had encountered this feeling before in my life, but somehow I had forgotten the exact struggle of living through the pain.

My exhausted body and mind yearned for the pleasant sensation of balance I have come to associate with my practice. However, since I had temporarily alienated myself from my favorite studio, I didn't know where to turn. Then I remembered my wondrously intense Thai massage. I looked into attending the studio where I had received the massage but their method was not exactly what I was looking for. I did, however, establish a kinship with the owner. I called him and arranged for a private session to hold me over until I could regain my bearings.

My first private session was a two-hour refuge, during which time we focused on the integrity of poses in my vinyasa flow. I found it helpful to gain insight from someone whose practice I was not accustomed to following. I held many poses longer than I typically do, and I left feeling as

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