Yoga Friday
October 13, 2023
When I am home, the highlight of my week is attending a Friday morning yoga class with my mom. For most of my life, I attended these classes for the sole purpose of spending time with my mom, but I was indifferent, and often bored, by the practice of yoga itself. However, during my senior year of high school, my perspective shifted; my Friday yoga class became an opportunity to stretch out my muscles, catch my breath, and liberate myself from the constant swirl of thoughts in my head.
At the beginning of the class, the teacher usually asked participants to set their focus. I often told myself to be present and control my thoughts to what is directly within the studio’s four walls. This was always hard for me at first, but as I moved through each of the flows, my body felt a little less rigid, and my mind felt a little more free. I would leave class on Friday mornings feeling centered, empowered, and prepared to conquer the week ahead.
As much as I looked forward to this routine at home, I did not attend a single yoga class in Ann Arbor during my freshman year. The craving to release tension in my body and catch my breath still persisted, but it never crossed my mind that a Friday yoga class would resolve the pressures I was feeling.
Part of my hesitation was my own rigidity: yoga was something I did with my mom at the same studio every Friday morning. It wouldn’t feel right to do it any other way. I wonder if I was also subconsciously afraid to modify this routine - if it felt different here, would I be able to return to the same magic it always held at home?
A large aspect of my freshman year of college was balancing the combination of new and recurring interests, forming new friendships while nurturing existing ones, and learning to embrace a new version of myself without losing touch with the person I was before growing as a University of Michigan student. I feared that evolving meant giving up the ability to return to how life used to be.
On the first Friday of my sophomore year, I attended my first yoga class in Ann Arbor. In this class, I knew the poses the instructor flowed through, but the four walls of the studio and the faces around me were unfamiliar. Although unprompted, at the beginning of class, I told myself to try to be present and control my thoughts about what was happening around me. It was a different experience than I was used to, but I still found myself leaving with a similar relief as I would at home.
Yoga Friday might look different depending on the day, the city, or even the version of myself that steps onto the mat. Still, I am content knowing that each of these overlapping forms of the same practice are available to me when I need them most.
