I'M JUST IN IT FOR THE OM
I saw a clever yoga t-shirt once. It said “I’m just in it for Shavasana.” For all non-yogis, this is the pose at the end of yoga class that has you lying flat on your mat with your eyes closed. It’s fantastic, like eating something delicious when you’re famished. You finish a challenging yoga class, feeling pretty good about that balancing pose you just landed, and then you get to lie there like a corpse. Literally, the word shavasana means “corpse pose.” I get why some witty yogi put it on a t-shirt. It’s incredibly satisfying.
On reflection though, my t-shirt would say “I’m just in it for the Om.”
Stick with me here. I love yoga because it gets me out of my head and challenges me physically. It’s been an important and consistent part of my life for years. But what really speaks to me is the chant of Om at the beginning and end of the yoga class. A room full of people, many of them strangers, raising their voices together in this ancient word. Om is a sacred sound in several religions, including Hinduism, Buddhism and Jainism. Its meaning varies across these, and can refer to the self, truth, the universe, infinite knowledge, and more. A small word that contains so much.
For me Om is a reminder that we are all connected, that we are more similar than we are different and share the same energy or life force. When I hear a room full of people chant this word, it’s a message that I’m not alone, that my troubles aren’t too different than the troubles of the stranger next to me, and that we are grounded in common experience. This idea comforts and bolsters me.
We all miss things that we used to do before COVID. I miss live music and long, lazy dinners out and I especially miss yoga class. Sure, I can do recorded or streaming yoga classes, perched above my mat while I stare at the tiny screen on my phone. But this yoga feels so lacking. I’m missing the joy of moving and breathing together with others. I miss the feeling of connection that is so much harder to find these days. We see each other on screens. When we happen to be out and about, we give a wide birth, hurrying along and barricaded by our masks. It feels so much harder to find these daily reminders of affinity.
After nearly six months of sad, solo yoga, I saw that my favorite studio was offering outdoor classes on the rooftop deck of a nearby library. Twist Yoga, you are brilliant! This was finally a chance to join others in a format that felt safe and comfortable. I signed up and arrived early to get a good spot. I unrolled my mat on a sunny stretch of concrete overlooking the Puget Sound. At almost 6 pm, the sun was still intense, warming my forehead and cheeks. The sun and the view were dazzling, but I closed my eyes, overcome that I was finally here, sitting on my mat, surrounded by a dozen others. I put my forehead down on the mat in child’s pose, grateful to hear the sighs of the people safely spread out around me. Our breathing synchronized as we began moving through the poses. Amidst the teacher’s cues and our own breaths mingled the sounds of the library grounds- kids shouting, college kids gossiping and making phone calls to procure beer, and one brazen soul careening through the courtyard on a skateboard. The sounds became a pleasant backdrop that lulled me into a state of ease, like the din of the TV and your family’s voices as you drift to sleep on the couch after Thanksgiving dinner. I was calmed and comforted, no longer physically at home and lonely on my mat, but emotionally home amidst the other yogis.
The class came to a close and we sat up, hands pressed together in front of our hearts. And there it was. That single Om, the one that I had been waiting six months for. Our voices blended in the reminder that I so desperately needed. We are all connected. We are close and akin, even in our solitude and separation.
I got up and followed the other students out, wanting to hug every one of them for giving me back the connection I was missing. Don’t worry, I didn’t. Maybe someday I might. But for now, hearing the Om was enough. The Shavasana was just a bonus.
Maybe yoga isn’t your thing. How do you find connection and community during the pandemic? I’ve talked to so many others that struggle to find new ways to do this. I’ve also seen people come up with incredibly creative ways to meet these needs. A coach can be a great partner for finding new ways to reach your friends and community while staying safe and socially distanced. Contact me to start a conversation about how coaching can help you reach your goals.
