About 18 years ago I attended a two-day yoga teaching
workshop. During one of the breaks on the second day, there was a time to ask
questions and I asked about Fish pose. Fish pose requires you to put the back
of your head on the ground, opening your throat to the sky. Whenever I come out
of a pose that puts my head back, I get incredibly dizzy for several minutes
afterward. I asked what would cause this and what recommendations there were
for the pose. A woman piped up, “You see, Fish pose opens the Throat Chakra.
The Throat Chakra is where our truth comes from so maybe that’s the problem.”
I gave her my best “Wow, no thank you for your help” face
and inside thought, “What the fuck Vicki? Did you just call me out as a
dishonest person in front of this room of yogis? You don’t even fucking know
me.” I was looking for a scientific reason because I lived in the world of
black and white and science and physiology were my friends, not some woo-woo
garbage about chakras. I always told the truth – sometimes to a fault. But deep
down, over the years this comment has lived with me. Am I an honest person? Is
this why throat opening poses make me sick? It doesn’t make any sense. I am
totally an honest person. So instead of tipping my head back, I would flex my
neck to keep my head neutral which was a better alternative to losing my
balance and wanting to puke while I was teaching. Clearly the issue had
something to do with blood pressure or equilibrium. The mind-body connection theory is a great
idea, but it certainly wasn’t this connected.
Flash forward 16 years and I had this life changing moment.
This moment rocked my world and made me question everything I knew. I lost my
smile. I lost my reality. Vicki’s comment kept coming up in my mind. What was
the truth anyway? What did I know to be real? I realized I didn’t know the
answer anymore. I started to really think about my life and consider what I
knew to be true about myself. That much I could answer, or so I thought. I was an honest person who tried her best to be good to others. I had integrity and a deep
sense of fairness.
When your world changes, you start to notice everything
around you through a different lens. And I started to notice when I felt a deep true emotion,
I could feel it in my throat. Noticing my body’s reactions to my emotions
started showing me the difference between a real true emotion and indignation. I
feel indignation and pettiness in my mind. If it was real fear or sadness, my
heart would clench up all the way through my throat. Usually I would swallow it down because I didn’t
have time for a big real feel. I had a job. I had kids to raise. I was
swallowing my truth. Turns out Vicki might have been on to something. There is
a mind-body connection after all. I started listening to my body more to help
me steer through the chaos in my mind. I didn’t have a lot of time to spend on
emotions so if I was going to deal with something, it had better be real.
It’s been a year since this catalyst moment and I’m
still processing. Like most pivotal moments, it ended up having multiple
layers, and like an onion, they all made you cry. This year has been exhausting. I met with my therapist and told her that I was tired of
not feeling like myself. “Jen doesn’t feel sad or mad. Jen is a happy person. I’m
really ready for this “season” to be finished. I don’t even know who I am
anymore. Something must be wrong with me.” And she looked at me and said, “I’d
like to talk about that. Jen isn’t just a happy person or a sad person or a mad
person. She should feel all of those things. That makes her a human. Being
Happy Jen has not served you well in the past. You were never Happy Jen – Real Jen
feels all kinds of feelings. I would say that you need to feel sad and mad at
times. And that’s exactly where you should be right now. You have just started
to give voice to your feelings.”
I thought about that. In an effort to make those around me
happy and to earn love and acceptance, I practiced a lot of self-destructive
behavior. It is my 25-year anniversary with my eating disorder. I learned it
was easier to feel physical pain than emotional pain and what better way to
find quick pain than being hungry. I only felt lovable if I was perfect and thin
is perfect. As I got older I learned that when life was hard and stressful and
sad I could swallow those feelings by over-doing. I would clean everything,
bake everything, take care of everything because if I was accomplishing
something, I could feel good about that, even if nothing else felt good. If I could just be perfect, then everything would be fine. I would be worthy of love. And if I could
keep constantly busy, I could outrun those emotions instead of giving a voice
to my feelings. All these behaviors did was make me exhausted and a wisp of
myself. I was so good at swallowing my true emotions so that I could seem happy
and perfect to everyone. I wasn’t really as honest as I thought I was. Truthfully,
I hadn’t been honest with myself in years, instead hiding any signs of trouble
with these unhealthy behaviors.
This past year I’ve been finding my voice. I’ve
been speaking up for myself because I have nothing to lose but my integrity by
staying silent. I can be sad and I can be mad. And if people don’t like it, then
they don’t like the Real Jen – and I’d rather surround myself with people who
like the Real Me than the one I’ve been projecting for acceptance. I’ve been in
the arena this year and I’ve been knocked down, bruised and blooded. I’m proud
of these new scars. I found that I would rather speak truth than put up a
façade. Authentic feels real and that’s all I want now. And according to my
therapist, maybe I’ve never been Happy Jen. I haven’t been honest with myself or others and
instead ran from my real feelings. I deserve better than that. And it’s only fair
to let others know the Real Me and make decisions based on who she is versus
who I think you want her to be. Needless to say it has been a Rebuilding Year.
Recently I went to a Sleepy Yoga class (aka Restore Yoga but
I always drift off.) We were going into a deep quad stretch pose and were
instructed to drop our heads back, just like in Fish pose. I flexed my muscles
to keep my head in neutral like usual. It felt cramped and uncomfortable so I
took a chance and dropped my head. I held it for a few breaths and then braced
myself for the ensuing dizziness I’d have when I came out of the pose. I rose
up and…nothing. It must have been a fluke. I dropped my head back again and
soon rose up. Nothing. I finished the pose with my head back, throat open to
the sky. It felt great – I’ve never been able to do that in the 20 years I’ve done
yoga. It looks like my Throat Chakra has opened. I have finally found
my truth. Dammit. Looks like Vicki was right after all.
