How Yoga Transformed My Life - From Struggle to Strength

Searching for Meaning Before Yoga

Before Yoga intervened and directed my inner compass, life was about going through the motions. Sometimes our sadhana feels this way, mechanical and routine. No spark or edge makes things dull, life too.

In my adolescence, there was no reflection about who I was or why I felt certain things. Brain fog was existential, not just a withdrawal of coffee or lack of sleep. I lived on autopilot, coasting through the troubles of youth like petty rebelliousness.

But then a moment of crisis created a silent surge within that pulled me into a dark corner, further solidifying my sleepwalker persona. My parents divorced at the ripe age of 13. 

The Impact of Family Crisis on My Life

As I sat on the couch, my mother broke the news. I froze, even though I knew something was off prior. My father had been sleeping in my room. Then my mother would turn her cheek when he tried to kiss her.

It didn’t look good. The rejection ricocheted and fell on my crumbling self-worth. I was split in two, divided amongst myself. There was no understanding or awareness of how this would affect me.

My father moved out. To make matters worse, my mother had to beg him to come see me and my siblings, further deepening the sense of rejection.

Falling Into Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms

At school, I bounced between one friend group and the next. With no conscious discrimination, my identity was in flux. I felt hollow and directionless.

Thus, the downhill spiral swept me away. Drugs were a quick fix, a temporary pause, a way of fun. I could escape and delusionally transcend my limitations.

We can always run, but we can’t hide. Eventually, the dust will settle.

The Turning Point: An Unexpected Intervention

I fell asleep on the couch after an evening of debauchery. As I awoke the next day, my family had gathered around me in a circle. There was also a strange, well-dressed man.

From the TV shows, I knew the inevitable. It was a giant fork in the road, either hit the road or get help.

I kept my head down the entire time until my mother said, “William, look at me.” Her gaze broke the veil. I cried helplessly, knowing deep down I needed a way out of suffering. Plus, I saw the damage I caused my family as well.

Ironically, my conscience became clear as light. I didn’t refuse or resist and left immediately with the man out the front door. 

Healing In the Wilderness: My First Steps Towards Awareness

The unknown is an interesting conception. We know that we don’t know, which makes for quite a paradox.

I had no idea where I was going, but somehow it felt right. With a history of shutting down and struggling with confidence, I was surrounded by people who had been waiting for me.

It was a wilderness rehabilitation program, designed to isolate and cut off the distractions of the world by getting back to the roots. I found solace knowing I wasn’t the only one. There were people of all ages, experiencing the same struggle of hopelessness and despair.

The Power of Community and Storytelling

In the desert, we walked and changed camp every day. The fire was our center, not only for warmth but to inspire us to burn away the impurities we’ve carried far too long.

We were sick. We were closed off. We were immune to the pain we caused loved ones, unaware of how actions ripple and cause tidal waves for those who are near.

It was a collective purge. The light found a way through the cracks somehow. The group had a way of solidarity, encouraging us to shed our layers, while disclosing the pain through stories.

It can be heroic to express oneself,  as we untie the knots inside the body that block emotion from release. However, with enough pressure, transformation is possible.

Just like the granthis, Sanskrit, for psychic knots, we can dissolve the barriers that limit our freedom of expression, movement, or ideas when we articulate the body to change form guided by the breath or by the voice of someone we trust.

Like how a bone breaks and regenerates naturally, healing is biological. It is in our DNA, but we need to rewire the connection. Willpower is not some unicorn. It is real and requires an open heart, even if broken, to weave pain into strength.

A Vision Quest and a New Way of Seeing

There was a vision quest, a Native American rite of passage into adulthood, at the end of the program. I was alone and fasted for three days.

In this transitional state, like a vinyasa, apparent epiphanies or dreams suddenly dawn when there is no expectation. This is the hardest pose of Yoga, doing something without expecting anything in return. Real karma yoga.

There was no talk of the third eye or something mystical. It was a practical, clear sight into the great mystery of nature where something beckons us, calls us somewhere, be it home or our center.

No one likes to be lost, but when we find our way, we are relieved.

I finally woke up from my drug-induced coma into a glistening reality, free enough to let go and surrender my will to something greater than what I know.

How My First Yoga Class Changed Everything

My pain became the weight and gravity, my foundation and balance, once I stepped on the mat. It taught me alignment and how it led to change will continue in the next story.

The Great Unknown