I’m taking a workshop with a woman who has developed a program to deal with depression through yoga. Colleen Millen has been diagnosed before with depression and is a yoga teacher. She’s been working on a program to apply the skills she’s learned as a yoga teacher to deal with depression since 1998. She also has been doing her own research on depression as well.
It’s seven weeks, and started last week. There are ten people or so in the class, and she has two assistants. The materials include a lot of readings and worksheets. This week we’re focusing on toxicity. Of course, what’s toxic for me is my refusal to be present in my life. What I can do to fight this is choose to be present. I can. Will I, won’t I, will I, won’t I, will I join the dance?
That’s what I like about this course: everything we talk about is concrete, and we keep talking about concrete solutions. “What makes you feel bright? What can you do to make yourself feel bright this week?”
What’s funny to me is that she’s a Forrest yoga teacher, and that all the Forrest yoga teachers I have had are all very particular about their practice, and they’re all fucking different. Some tell me to breathe deeper, others say I’m breathing too “aggressively.” Some tell me to push harder, others tell me I need to relax. Some tell me I need to hold a position longer, others tell me I need to flow more. They all tell me they’re close to the Forrest method, but none are the same. I won’t take one because she’s a douche about it. Instead of just correcting me personally, she says shit to the whole class about it. “Some of you aren’t breathing. Some of you are pushing too hard. Some of you are forcing it too much.” I know she’s talking about me and I’m not paranoid because she always talks to me about how fucked my practice is because I don’t come to her class afterward, and everything she’s mentioned in class is everything that’s wrong with me. I don’t come to your class because a) your class isn’t hard enough, and b) you’re a Choad McMuffin. Oh and c) you act like your shit don’t stink. Arrogant new age people–aren’t they the worst?
So I kind of went on autopilot, because her sequence was close to another teacher’s sequence–but not exactly the same. And don’t you know, her assistants corrected the hell out of me. It’s always bad for my ego. But really, I need to be present, so there you go. Just another opportunity for me to be where I’m at. And afterward, one of her assistants told me I have a “beautiful practice,” because she could really feel how weird I get about being corrected.
Anyhow, we’ll see how much this helps me. I don’t expect to be on less medication or anything, I just want some cushioning in my life so I’m less likely to fall down again. I want to have more tools in my life to help me with my disease.