Excerpts from an Article: it was yoga that transformed my life

People who experience sexual assault frequently report that they feel disconnected from their bodies — it’s a way to disconnect from the experience. So, in addition to talk therapy, I was prescribed exercise. I was already a runner — and running helped. But it was yoga that transformed my life.

Each class starts with an intention, a hyper-focused meditation of sorts, that is woven throughout the session. That meditation combined with conscious breathing is a critical step on the path to well-being.

I always left class buzzing with endorphins and a deep sense of calm.

I started to get stronger, with noticeable curves in my waist and definition in my arms and thighs. As my muscles grew, I felt proud of my body and the work I’d put into it. I started to eat better and drink less.

My anxiety also started to ease.

After the assault, I also decided to set my phone alarm for noon each day to remind me to practice my breathing. (Yes, I had a daily reminder to breathe.) It was relatively simple: in through the nose for five seconds, hold my breath for five seconds, and exhale for five seconds.

At first, my breaths sounded as though I was being suffocated, which seemed appropriate — I felt like my life was suffocating me. But I soon discovered that breathing was something I could control and regulate, and I cannot overemphasize the importance of control. I’d lost it and had to get it back.

It became a habit, and any time I felt sad or got stressed at work, I would take in a long inhale, followed by a long exhale, and my stress or sense of helplessness would lessen. I became more comfortable with just being in the moment.

After six months of yoga classes and daily breathing breaks, I began to feel as though I was regaining control of my life. I ended up leaving my job in music and moved to San Francisco to pursue a job in “marketing for good.” I also became a certified yoga instructor.

In times when I feel pressure, pain or fear, or when I feel anything other than the pure simple joy of being alive, I sit on my mat and focus on my breath. I’m here, I’m safe and I’m alive.

Article by Claire Cook, Los Angeles Times Dec. 28, 2015