Steps to Begin Yoga Later in Life

Steps to Begin Yoga Later in Life

A Personal Journey at 58

I felt old, a feeling that arrived one morning when I found myself sitting on the edge of the toilet, bending over to put on a shirt because I could no longer lift my shoulder. I draped a towel around me like a toga and went to the doctor.

After an examination of poking, prodding, and X-Rays, he informed me that I had a ‘frozen shoulder.’ It sounded so ridiculous I wondered if he had just made it up. What next? Frigid toe? Frosted knee? Arctic hip?

Feeling old was followed by feeling deflated.

I was 58, and the idea that my body might stop cooperating with my addiction to travel, adventure, and exploring shook me to my hiking boots.

Flexibility is what helps us move. It is marching in a parade, walking your dog, holding hands with a loved one while you stroll down the beach, and being able to carry your groceries to your home. It’s the basic things in life.

Feeling deflated was followed by feeling regret.

When I was in my twenties, thirties, and even forties, people warned me that I couldn’t eat, drink, play, and party like I did. Life would catch up. But I was invincible, and those warnings fell on deaf ears.

Feeling regret was followed by admonishing myself like a child.

I should have drank more water. I should have exercised more. I should have eaten better.

The doctor returned with a list of options: physical therapy, designer drugs, surgery. I drowned in a feeling of hopelessness and wrapped myself in self-pity. Age had caught up with me. I was old and getting older.

Dressed in a nondescript gown made of tissue paper, legs dangling over the metal table, I began deep breathing, as I had learned in my younger days.

Without a word, I got off the table and left.

Golden Gate Bridge. Credit: Benjamin Benoit Photography

First Steps to Begin Yoga As A Vintage Woman…

I spent the day wandering the hills of my beautiful San Francisco, reflecting on what to do next. By the end of the day, the answer had appeared: at the ripe age of 58 (on the other side of mid-life, as I probably won’t live to be 116), I would deepen my study of Yoga.

There are many ways to study Yoga: in studios, in college, at retreats, and even online.

But, I was seeking something different, something I couldn’t define yet, something that would take me far from the cold metal table I had spent my morning on.

So, I did a very Virgo thing. I bought a day planner. It was 8.5” x 11”, pages of white, with colored lines and lists galore: a To-Do List, an Everything List, a Master List, a My Day List, and a Recap List running down each side and I landed on the idea of an online yoga course.

There are pros and cons to online training courses. The pros are cost, flexibility in schedule, eco-friendliness, and a variety of styles and instructors offered.

The cons are obvious: no live interaction, adjustments, or feedback. You won’t meet people or build community, and it can be harder to stay focused and disciplined.

Eventually, I came up with my Top 5 List.

1. I didn’t want to teach yoga. I wanted to immerse myself in it?—?for no other reason than that it was a gift to me.
2. I needed to stay motivated, so making a financial investment would help. Yes, money is a motivator.
3. I didn’t want something that felt like work or that I was creating a business. At my age, I didn’t need a profession as much as a passion.
4. I didn’t want to dogma my downward dogging.

And, since I was doing this solely for myself, I wanted to treat myself to someplace new and exotic?—?at least, new and exotic to me; and weirdly, India, the birthplace of yoga, wasn’t appealing. I know it’s not a very yogic mindset, but it was honest.

A few days later, I sold some of my Bitcoin and signed up for an online teacher training course. Since studying online was new to me, I added the bonus features?—?daily Zoom calls and review sessions?—?to the cart and clicked the checkout button.

I was signed up for Yoga Renew, a 200-hour yoga teacher training course certified by the Yoga Alliance.

Then I called my Spanish professor, whom I had been taking lessons with for six months, and asked where he thought I might like to go for my first trip to Mexico.

Without hesitation, he answered: Zipolite or Mazunte in Oaxaca. He couldn’t explain why but felt it would fit me well.

Playa Zipolite, Oaxaca, Mexico. Credit: Writer Jacks

I went to the bank and ordered pesos, got online, rented a room, bought a plane ticket, and a week later, caught a flight to a town I had never heard of before but whose name, Huatulco, means “where they worship the tree.”

From there, I would find my way to Zipolite and begin to reclaim and recreate myself for my sixth decade of life.

Next Steps to Begin Yoga as a Mature Woman: Arriving In Oaxaca

I arrived at the Huatulco airport, a series of small buildings with thatched roofs, and stepped from one life into another. Breathing in the humidity of the December air, I walked across the street to the Pemex gas station on the corner and caught a bus towards Pochutla, a city of 50,000.

It took some time and the help of a sympathetic Mexican Senor, who eventually led me to the Colectivo, a dusty, canvas-covered pickup that is the transport that would take me to Zipolite.

So far, those Spanish lessons were paying off.

  Colectivo, Oaxaca, Mexico. Credit: Writer Jacks

Zipolite, Oaxaca

A few hours later, I arrived at Playa Zipolite, which is most famous for being Mexico’s first and only legal nude beach. But the moment I saw it, I knew why my professor had ‘felt’ this was the right spot for me.

With a population hovering around 1000 and pristine white-sand beaches, Zipo is a bohemian outpost that still retains the hippie vibe of the 1970s; it stole my heart at first sight.

The town’s dirt roads had no major stores, banks, or post offices. A truck delivered water at intermittent intervals. Wi-Fi and air conditioning were scarce.

After getting off the Colectivo, I wandered down a dirt road to the town’s main street and found my second-floor, single-room cabana located directly on the beach.

View from Zipo Cabana. Credit: Writer Jacks

My balcony overlooked the ocean, hammocks gently swaying in the breeze. The room had a dirt floor with mosquito mesh for windows and a bed shrouded in the same mesh. I had splurged for the most luxurious honeymoon suite because it had air conditioning which was an oversized oscillating fan that sat in one corner and stirred the soup of humidity. The defining extravagance was a shower, which was a concrete cave with no hot water, which is normal in southern Mexico. There was, of course, no internet or television.

It was perfect.

Panga in San Augustino. Credit: Writer Jacks

The Yoga Renew Program:

A couple of mornings later, I spread my yoga mat on the beach, claiming my sacred space, and began my Yoga program.

The course is thorough and consists of 44 modules covering everything from different styles of yoga to history, meditation, chakras, anatomy, philosophy, various poses (standing, seated, twists, inversions, bends), Sanskrit, Sequencing, mudras, pranayama, and so much more.

Of course, there were the added live Zoom calls, which I participated in on a weekly basis. During these calls, I received feedback and suggestions from the teachers. It was money well spent.

Each section is coupled with a quiz to prepare you for the granddaddy of them all, a Final Exam, which consists of 105 questions.

After the Final Exam, modules covering registration with Yoga Alliance, the business of yoga, continuing education, and resources are added.

To successfully complete the entire course, you must sequence eight classes?—?each lasting an hour and 45 minutes.

Armed with my Chromebook, Bluetooth earbuds, and a yoga mat, I went to the beach to begin the process of reinventing myself. Once on my mat, I gazed out at the canvas of the ocean before me, the sun shimmering off its liquid sapphire surface and warm sand beneath my toes. I knew I was in the right place.

Oaxaca, Mexico, Beach. Credit: Writer Jacks

A 200 hour yoga program is not a literal 200 hours. There is a lot to learn and retain, and everyone does that differently and at a different pace. Some pieces I struggled with?—?(anatomy)?—?some parts I loved and spent a lot of time with?—?(meditation). I was doing this for myself, so I wasn’t in any hurry. I enjoyed what I wanted at a meandering pace and put my nose to the grindstone in other parts.

I have been told the average 200-hour Yoga Alliance Certified program takes 3 to 5 months to complete. I took eight, actually finishing the course?—?final exam and mock teaching?—?in my home state of Oregon, on the beach of Yachats.

I received terrific feedback for my sequencing and mock class at the completion of my program and a whopping 101 out of 105 on the Final Exam?—?all admirable and inspiring accomplishments.

Quiz scores or the perfect pigeon pose were not the most important things I took from my mat at the end of the course.

It is true. I no longer have a frozen shoulder and am not expecting frigid toes, frosted knees, or arctic hips.

I am mobile and can do pretty much everything pain-free: help sail our boat, hike a mountain?—?(a small one), row a dinghy, grocery shop, dance to the Village People, put on a shirt without the aid of a toilet seat, tie my shoes and much more.

The reality was?—?and remains?—?-that I am beyond middle age, and it is a beautiful place to be.

Yoga became a reflection and mirror of my life, a reminder of the good stuff.

Props, those weirdly shaped pieces of foam that I would never have used in my youth?—?help with support and balance me; they offer a deeper stretch, an opportunity to go somewhere I might not have been able to go without them.

Props are my friends, and they remind me to take a moment and reflect on my own friends: some I haven’t seen in a while. Some give me support during life’s tough times and help me work through challenges?—?going deeper into places I might not have gone without them.

Standing in Tree Pose reminds me that balance is hard. Balancing diet, exercise, social engagements, learning, growing, studying?—?balancing life. As we grow older, this balancing of life gains an importance that it didn’t have in our youth.

Playful Baby reminds me of the importance of joyfully letting go without self-judgment. Remember when you were a kid? You would skip down the street, arms flailing like airplane wings, singing loudly and out of key. It was joyful.

At age 58, I took my first pole dance class?—?and I must say, it was joyful, and I was amazing. Yoga reminded me to move forward with childlike innocence.

But the biggest thing I learned from my mat at age 58 is to?—?Be. Yoga will reframe what you used to be as your younger self and leave an opportunity to grow into what you can be at your new, vintage self.

The ultimate reminder was that this bohemian-spirited girl is still becoming?—?-becoming the woman?—?and the person?—?-I was meant to be.

Credit: Writer Jacks

Until Next Time!

Stay Bendy

S/V Gypsea Explorer 

The Salty Yogi

To learn more about the Yoga Renew Program, click HERE.

And if you liked this story, check out my post about Yoga in Mazunte, Oaxaca

5 Songs Inspired by This Trip!

“Vivir Mi Vida”—- Marc Anthony

 “La Gozadora”——Gente de Zona

“Djobi Djoba”—–Gipsy Kings

“No Hay Problema”—Pink Martini

“Playing for Change”— Song Across Mexico

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