I will be sharing stories from teachers, students, professionals, and myself of moments from our former physical location, our experiences through covid 19, and what is driving our motivations to keep teaching, practicing, and staying together as a community.

I was getting Anxious...

3 months into opening Union Yoga we had 3 subsidized students, none of which were recovering from alcoholism.
I was grateful we were reaching people... although I started to wonder if our message was being heard by recovering alcoholics. I started to wonder if the mainstream yoga marketing was to thick to pierce with the message I'd be screaming about leading up to our opening... That maybe they wouldn't come, that we had made yoga too scary, too exclusive, too out of reach for those recovering from alcoholism.

And then...

On an unassuming night...

I was setting up 7pm Yin Yoga, with candles and dim lighting. The sun had set and the room was filled with ambient jazz. I swept and arranged the bolsters so they were easily accessible.

Students started to trickle in, some have been coming a while, some brand new. Maybe a group of 5 or 6.

And as time came to start I walked over to the entrance to shut the door. A not so gentleman rushed in the door with his shoes on, hoodie on, and big backpack. He walked right passed me and I dodged him to not be knocked over, and he darted straight to the bathroom ignoring the students around him whom were trying to settle down.
He had dark eyes and gray stubble, the kind of look on a man's face, and subtle nervous mannerisms that only other addicts could recognize by feeling...
I said to myself..."This is what you've been training for."
I slowly followed him to the back and he entered the bathroom. I waited and as he came out I said to him, "Hi! welcome to Union. Can I help you?"
Almost in a grunting voice said "this is yoga right?"

I said, "yes, and when you come inside please take off your shoes and put you backpack in the lockers or on the shelving above the door. if you need anything from me please let me know."

He followed me out and attempted to put his backpack on the shelves and struggled, he made a ruckus walking past seemingly disruptive with every step and movement he made to the space.
I took another deep breath and said, "This is what you trained for."
I followed him and said, "let me help you brohv."
I took his bag and softly placed it on the shelf.
"Follow me let's get you checked in and gather some props."
He followed me and bashfully took the blocks, bolster, and blanket I grabbed from the shelves and I laid down a mat for him.
Through the class I made it very clear "everything is optional. and if there is something I suggest that you don't want to do please do something else."

He made interesting sounds, and laughed some under his breath. I checked up on him as much as I did everyone else in the room.
One pose he asked me in a rather loud tone, where everyone can hear, "Is this right.?"

I said something like, "if it feels right."

There were many poses that he did not follow at all, and others he did. I did not ask him to follow along. There were poses in which he stayed in child's pose. I helped him a bit with prop placements and some light encouragement.

By the end I wasn't sure if we had reached anything, he maybe did half of what we practiced in class, I made sure I hadn't given him any special attention other than what I'd normally do, I gave extra attention to functional cuing and inquiry.
As I started to put props away and turn candles off, I had my periphery on him, and my ear open to his movements, It was clear something had shifted. He seemed calmer, his movements not so abrupt, there was a cadence to him.
He approached me and said, "This is the first time I had ever felt comfortable in a yoga class, You made me feel normal."
I said something like, "we are here, and hearing you say that means so much to me."
He shook my hand, and with a sincere tone looked me right in the eyes for the first time and said, "Thank you." He tossed his backpack on and left.