I started practicing yoga in 1992 as I was finishing my Ph.D. in English at St. Louis University in St. Louis, Missouri.
I had been curious about yoga since I was a kid growing up in Zachary, Louisiana, when I saw a very fuzzy, grainy, static-filled Lilias Yoga and You on a PBS station that we could barely receive. Zachary only got 3 TV stations clearly--ABC, CBS, and NBC--the big 3--but every now and then, if you got the antenna just right and the force was with you, you could get the PBS station too, and on some early mornings when no one else was in the room, I managed to get Lilias Folan's show. According to a quick Google search, the show first aired in 1970, so I probably saw it then, when I was 10 years old.
I was fascinated. I wanted to do this! I would search for the show every chance I got, and every now and then got lucky and could watch a few minutes before the channel went out of range or a family member walked through the room and ridiculed me and changed the channel or turned off the TV. These experiences left me with a very dreamlike impression of something far away and exotic that I wanted to experience. It planted a seed that took a long time to germinate. I almost forgot about it entirely.
Then one day in the early 1990s, I developed a heel spur, which led me to a series of podiatrists and orthopedic surgeons, the last (and best) of whom directed me to a shoe store that specialized in orthotics. The shoe consultant, David Fischer, mentioned that his sister, Joyce Fischer, worked for a chiropractor, Martin Orimenko. I had also been interested in chiropractic--what was it, anyway? And I had seen the chiropractor's place and liked the look of it. And I was getting disillusioned with western medicine, due to my experiences trying to heal the heel spur. I decided to try chiropractic.
I liked Martin Orimenko, and he helped me considerably, helping me become much more aware of my body and spirit. He was a joy with whom to work, and I began to heal, thanks to the orthotics, practices I learned from the orthopedic surgeon, and working with Dr. Orimenko.
His office also had space for massage, something else I'd never tried but wanted to experience, and so I made my first massage appointment with a woman named Teresa Paskas. She pointed out that my fingers were extraordinarily tight, something I had never noticed or thought about at all. Gripping the pencil! Oh, yes, and typing both on a typewriter and the computer keyboard. Unconscious habits of holding my hands and using my fingers when I wrote, and here I was writing a dissertation for a degree in English and teaching writing.
Teresa told me that she had studied yoga and that in yoga you learned to use just the muscles you needed for an action and to relax all the others. She said it looked like I had a death grip on my pen, and that I could learn to relax my fingers and just use the muscles I needed to hold the pen lightly.
Aha! I wanted to study yoga. I wanted to learn to use just the muscles I needed for an action and no more. I wanted to loosen the grip on my pen and hold it lightly. I wanted to know what I was doing. I wanted to be conscious.
I needed to find a teacher. I had seen a yoga studio in one part of town, but it intimidated me--looked very intense and unusual even from the outside. The office had fliers for yoga classes with Lyn Magee. The fliers appealed to me and didn't look too scary. I took one and started thinking about it.
Meanwhile I was working at a bakery, Pan Dora's Bakery, a magical place that opened the wonders of the world to me in many ways. A co-worker there, Maia Geyer, was leaving for New York City after graduating from Washington University with an MFA in Dance, and as a parting gift for all of us at the bakery, she offered us a dance/movement class one Sunday afternoon. I was incredibly stiff, but I loved it, and she incorporated some yoga in our free-form experimentation, and I was even more inspired to take a yoga class.
I kept telling my co-workers at the bakery about my desire to study yoga, talking it up, and mentioned Lyn Magee. They told me that Lyn was a regular customer at the bakery, and said they'd introduce me the next time she came in. She came in one day while I was working the counter, and someone introduced us, and she was a lovely, regular person who I immediately liked, friendly, down to earth, normal. She told me when and where her class would meet and encouraged me to take a class, and that's how I got started.
I am still learning to loosen the death grip on my pen and in my fingers, and I am still learning to be conscious. Not quite as simple as I thought it would be when I got started. It has been a wild ride, and worth every moment.
Thank you to all my teachers, especially these first teachers who opened the doors for me and pointed out the way. You got me started, and I am eternally grateful.
I had been curious about yoga since I was a kid growing up in Zachary, Louisiana, when I saw a very fuzzy, grainy, static-filled Lilias Yoga and You on a PBS station that we could barely receive. Zachary only got 3 TV stations clearly--ABC, CBS, and NBC--the big 3--but every now and then, if you got the antenna just right and the force was with you, you could get the PBS station too, and on some early mornings when no one else was in the room, I managed to get Lilias Folan's show. According to a quick Google search, the show first aired in 1970, so I probably saw it then, when I was 10 years old.
I was fascinated. I wanted to do this! I would search for the show every chance I got, and every now and then got lucky and could watch a few minutes before the channel went out of range or a family member walked through the room and ridiculed me and changed the channel or turned off the TV. These experiences left me with a very dreamlike impression of something far away and exotic that I wanted to experience. It planted a seed that took a long time to germinate. I almost forgot about it entirely.
Then one day in the early 1990s, I developed a heel spur, which led me to a series of podiatrists and orthopedic surgeons, the last (and best) of whom directed me to a shoe store that specialized in orthotics. The shoe consultant, David Fischer, mentioned that his sister, Joyce Fischer, worked for a chiropractor, Martin Orimenko. I had also been interested in chiropractic--what was it, anyway? And I had seen the chiropractor's place and liked the look of it. And I was getting disillusioned with western medicine, due to my experiences trying to heal the heel spur. I decided to try chiropractic.
I liked Martin Orimenko, and he helped me considerably, helping me become much more aware of my body and spirit. He was a joy with whom to work, and I began to heal, thanks to the orthotics, practices I learned from the orthopedic surgeon, and working with Dr. Orimenko.
His office also had space for massage, something else I'd never tried but wanted to experience, and so I made my first massage appointment with a woman named Teresa Paskas. She pointed out that my fingers were extraordinarily tight, something I had never noticed or thought about at all. Gripping the pencil! Oh, yes, and typing both on a typewriter and the computer keyboard. Unconscious habits of holding my hands and using my fingers when I wrote, and here I was writing a dissertation for a degree in English and teaching writing.
Teresa told me that she had studied yoga and that in yoga you learned to use just the muscles you needed for an action and to relax all the others. She said it looked like I had a death grip on my pen, and that I could learn to relax my fingers and just use the muscles I needed to hold the pen lightly.
Aha! I wanted to study yoga. I wanted to learn to use just the muscles I needed for an action and no more. I wanted to loosen the grip on my pen and hold it lightly. I wanted to know what I was doing. I wanted to be conscious.
I needed to find a teacher. I had seen a yoga studio in one part of town, but it intimidated me--looked very intense and unusual even from the outside. The office had fliers for yoga classes with Lyn Magee. The fliers appealed to me and didn't look too scary. I took one and started thinking about it.
Meanwhile I was working at a bakery, Pan Dora's Bakery, a magical place that opened the wonders of the world to me in many ways. A co-worker there, Maia Geyer, was leaving for New York City after graduating from Washington University with an MFA in Dance, and as a parting gift for all of us at the bakery, she offered us a dance/movement class one Sunday afternoon. I was incredibly stiff, but I loved it, and she incorporated some yoga in our free-form experimentation, and I was even more inspired to take a yoga class.
I kept telling my co-workers at the bakery about my desire to study yoga, talking it up, and mentioned Lyn Magee. They told me that Lyn was a regular customer at the bakery, and said they'd introduce me the next time she came in. She came in one day while I was working the counter, and someone introduced us, and she was a lovely, regular person who I immediately liked, friendly, down to earth, normal. She told me when and where her class would meet and encouraged me to take a class, and that's how I got started.
I am still learning to loosen the death grip on my pen and in my fingers, and I am still learning to be conscious. Not quite as simple as I thought it would be when I got started. It has been a wild ride, and worth every moment.
Thank you to all my teachers, especially these first teachers who opened the doors for me and pointed out the way. You got me started, and I am eternally grateful.
