Curvy Yogini

This is a love story about me and my yoga bolster.

You see, when I first started taking yoga classes, I couldn’t sit comfortably on the floor. Almost immediately after I settled into Easy pose, which is, I swear, yoga’s most ironically named posture, my lower back would start to ache, my neck would tighten, and my shoulders would slump forward. I would squirm and shift, trying to get comfortable in what looked like it should be such a simple, basic posture. In my mind, I was chiding myself for not being able to assume the peaceful stillness the other people around me were able to achieve. I criticized myself for not being able to neatly place my feet on top of my thighs in Lotus pose, like my teacher was able to do. Inevitably, the stream of negative comments would become ever more harsh, including things like If everyone else is able to sit on the floor, then you should too and If only you lost (fill in the blank) number of pounds you would be able to sit on the floor with no trouble at all. For as much shame and guilt I heaped on myself as I compared my body to others, it’s quite amazing that I am teaching yoga full-time today. I mean, really, if my teacher had spoken to me the way I was speaking to myself, I would have left in the middle of the class and never come back!

My world changed the day I was introduced to the idea of using a yoga bolster during seated postures. Finally I could look like everyone else! Sort of. The next hurdle in my head became getting over the idea that I actually needed help to sit on the floor. My monkey mind was chattering endlessly about how embarrassing it was to require a cushion while sitting. I mean, really, didn’t my body have enough cushioning on it’s own?

Gradually my yoga practice began to work it’s magic. As I gained more and more acceptance of my self and my abilities, it became easier to acknowledge and honor my needs rather than trying to somehow ignore them. I began to find all kinds of ways to use a bolster – sitting on the edge of it in Easy pose and astride it for Thunderbolt. I curled myself around it in Child’s pose and put it under my knees at the end of class in Savasana, yoga’s final resting posture. I became a bit of a bolster connoisseur, always trying to select the plumpest one from the stack in the corner of the studio.

The love affair began when I purchased my own bolster, covered in purple canvas. I schlepped my bolster to every class, where it would provide the stable foundation my body needs for certain postures. Over the years it has received my sighs of contentment and tears of frustration. It carried me through my yoga teacher training, when I discovered the bolsters in our practice space were too thin and squishy for my taste. It has soaked up the musical vibrations of countless kirtans and sunbathed in the backseat of my car when I wasn’t in class. I have even taken it with me to outdoor concerts and other non-yogic events requiring me to sit on something other than a chair. Gasp!

The sunbathing has resulted in the cover fading to a kind of a lavender-ish gray, and the stuffing is rather compacted now. Sadly, it is time for me to retire my current cushion in favor of something a little more firm. I will buy it a bright new cover and store it in my office for use during yoga therapy sessions, so all of it’s good mojo won’t go to waste.

We have come a long way, my bolster and I. I am grateful for all of the lessons it has taught me, including letting go of what it looks like on the outside in order to honor my needs on the inside and that it’s perfectly fine to accept help when I need it.

How will you support yourself in 2012?

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