Wednesday, September 6 // The Statement
7B
DESIGN BY MICHELLE PHILLIPS
If at first you try
W
hen
I
was
younger,
I
played every
sport you would expect a
young kid to. From swim-
ming to tennis to dance to
softball, I had all the bases
covered. I was never the
best at any of them, but
these activities made me
happy. When I graduated
from fifth grade, I found
myself
becoming
more
interested in the perform-
ing arts than sports. I was
in every school play and
won several state titles in
prose debate competitions:
a piece of dramatic inter-
pretation
performed
in
eight minutes.
Performing allowed me
to take a break from real-
ity, to transform myself
into different characters,
many of which I had noth-
ing in common with. Many
of the characters I played
in high school were drug
addicts,
schizophrenics
and girls with no ambi-
tion (see: Frenchie from
“Grease”).
These
oppor-
tunities
allowed
me
to
become something I would
never be, and I loved that.
Many of my teachers
asked me if I was going to
continue theater in col-
lege, and I always had the
same reply: “I hope so.”
Eager about what was to
come in my final year of
high school theater, I was
convinced I would pursue
performing arts in college.
When senior year rolled
around and I auditioned
for the fall musical, I was
devastated when I saw the
cast list. I was in the cho-
rus and only had one line.
Just the year before I was
the lead. I was crushed,
upset that I’d lose the
community that gave me a
stage to grow both physi-
cally and mentally.
My senior year of high
school was tough. I had
smart classmates to com-
pete with to get into the
most competitive schools,
and I knew my test scores
were not as good as those
of my peers, which took a
toll on my confidence. I
stopped eating, my hair
started
falling
out
and
my relationships with my
friends suffered.
Overwhelmed
by
the
fact that I had no control
over my future, I instead
controlled what I could:
my diet. I became very
weak,
growing
fatigued
during
simple
day-to-
day
activities.
I
wasn’t
restricting myself because
I wanted to lose weight —
in fact I was so anxious
that I didn’t even think I
was restricting myself. I
wasn’t eating because how
could I when I woke up
each morning unsure if I
would fail another AP Cal-
culus exam? Or get reject-
ed from another school?
Looking back, I’m embar-
rassed by these negative
thoughts. They consumed
my consciousness, tugging
at my mental and physical
well-being, and I didn’t
even realize it.
Flash
forward
a
year
and I’m sitting in a lec-
ture hall at one of the best
public universities in the
country. I started taking
medication for my anxiety,
eating real food again and
doing yoga. I’d tried yoga
in high school, but eventu-
ally dropped it because of
my busy schedule.
I quickly found that yoga
was the escape from reali-
ty — even if just for an hour
a day— that I was miss-
ing since I’d left theater.
Don’t get me wrong, yoga
is a physically demanding
activity, but I took com-
fort in the fact that, unlike
cycling
or
CrossFit,
I
didn’t feel like I was being
ordered to do anything I
didn’t want to do. All my
teachers made it very clear
that you should only per-
form poses that serve your
own unique body. I had
never heard that before,
and the acceptance I felt
coming to yoga every day
helped me to overcome a
lot of my mental hardships
that were still unresolved.
I finally felt in control.
After becoming a regu-
lar yogi, there was still
one pose that I just could
not get right: Chaturanga
Dandasana.
Practiced
in
almost every yoga class, it
serves to reset your body
and begin a new sequence
of poses or “flows.” Lots of
instructors call it a “yoga
pushup,” and I learned that
it is, indeed, a yoga pushup.
From the moment I was
introduced to the correct
alignment of the pose, I
told myself I’d never be
able to do it. I’d never even
done
a
regular
pushup
before.
Doubt
ran
through
my mind every time the
instructor called the pose
— and I didn’t realize how
much
this
anxiety
was
limiting my practice. Yoga
helps you experience dif-
ferent postures, although
they might be challeng-
ing to hold, training you
to deal with the negativity
that floods your mind the
moment you doubt your
capabilities.
I knew that I wouldn’t
nail this pose on my first
try. Lots of yoga poses
take months, even years,
to master. I started slow
and with the help of my
teachers
made
minor
adjustments to my align-
ment so that I could start
to push my physical edge.
Often, I felt like quitting
just because I didn’t suc-
ceed the first time. Or, in
other words, letting my
anxieties
paralyze
me.
But through my dedica-
tion to yoga I’ve learned
the challenges that may
have seemed impossible
might actually be within
my reach. It’s all about
opening the heart, mind,
body and soul, coming up
into upward dog, lifting
my heart to the world. I
feel satisfaction by sim-
ply doing it, but also relief
that I didn’t give up —
didn’t let the little doubts
and anxieties control me.
I
didn’t
start
yoga
because I needed to work
out, I started because I
needed to make peace
with myself. I needed to
learn that sometimes I fall
down and that’s okay.
I know this sounds cli-
ché, but I have come to
learn in these past two
years that I’m more capa-
ble than I’d ever thought
I was.
I have found my new
stage, and performing on
it makes me feel better
inside and out. I no lon-
ger need someone to give
me the lead. I can perform
all that I am capable of
in a space that allows all
beings to be happy, peace-
ful and free.
by Michelle Phillips, Managing Design Editor
Performing
allowed me to
take a break
from reaily,
to transform
myself into
different
characters
I started
because I
needed to make
peace with
myself. I needed
to learn that
sometimes I fall
down and that’s
okay.