Chapter 1: My Hot Yoga Misadventure

Forty minutes into the class, the heat surged to a blistering 105 degrees Fahrenheit, igniting a torrent of curse words in my mind that could rival any Bostonian. I glanced over at my wife, who appeared utterly at ease, her poses seemingly perfect (though she'd surely disagree). All I wanted was to shove her and demand, “What hell have you led me to?”

At that moment, I wasn’t practicing yoga; I was merely trying to endure the stifling heat. I had entered the class full of enthusiasm, but I had gravely misjudged the intensity of the environment. It felt like an oven, and each passing minute only increased my discomfort. I had taken breaks to hydrate at least seven times, each unnecessary motion costing me dearly. Once, I was even reprimanded for pouring water over my head. “Showers are for after class, Peter, not during,” the instructor chided.

“Just stay calm, follow my cues, and the heat will fade into the background,” the teacher encouraged. I responded with a sigh of exasperation—maybe an eye roll, too. My mind felt like it was on the verge of a meltdown.

Suddenly, I recalled my wife’s warning before we started: “Don’t drink that protein shake so close to class.” I had brushed her off, convinced I needed the energy to survive the heat. Her indifferent shrug was all the acknowledgment I received.

I looked at her again, standing with my hands on my hips, squirming, biting my lip. As we transitioned poses—a monumental task in this oppressive heat—my stomach began to churn. “It was just a protein shake,” I thought. My wife was too engrossed in her practice to notice my growing discomfort or the fact that I was about to burst from the heat. My hair felt like it could fry an egg! But I was determined not to pass out.

My eyes fixated on the door, where a slight crack in the seal let in a hint of cool air. The urge to escape was palpable, so much so that I missed the teacher’s command: “Change.” My wife finally noticed me, the lone practitioner stuck in a pose while staring longingly at the door. “One more pose,” she signaled, gesturing toward the ground.

Thankful, I complied. Just one more, and then I could collapse into savasana, the corpse pose, and call it a day. As we were instructed to lie down in gratitude for completing the standing series, I gratefully sank onto my mat, longing for a moment of blissful escape. Instead of feeling like dough in an oven, I craved the imagined touch of a cool New England autumn breeze. My hopes were dashed when the instructor told us to keep our eyes open, remain still, and breathe deeply.

Oh, come on—can’t I just close my eyes, roll over, and shed a tear?

I was no longer battling with a restless mind; it felt like an entire zoo was in rebellion. There was no way I was coming back.

The teacher urged us to trust his guidance, but all I wanted was to stick my tongue out at him and make ridiculous noises. However, in the clash between defiance and exhaustion, I found myself staring at the ceiling.

“I’ll hold this for a second, and then I’m done.”

But then… something shifted.

Before I knew it, I had been staring at a mildew spot on the ceiling for twenty seconds. My initial glare softened as I shifted my focus from my discomfort to that spot. After thirty-five seconds, it clicked. My gaze eased, my breath deepened, my body started to calm, and the intense heat felt less like a furnace and more like a warm poolside in Palm Springs. I was ready for the next series of poses.

Each time my mind tried to pull me back into discomfort, I resisted. I chose a focal point—my body, the mirror, the ceiling, or the space in front of me—and my breath became my ally. Miraculously, the heat began to fade from my awareness. I had almost forgotten about it.

“Good job, Peter. That’s it,” the teacher's encouraging voice echoed in the studio. I felt content. My poses were far from perfect, but I had discovered stillness within the chaos. I listened, trusted, and connected with the essence of yoga.

As we lay on our backs at the end of the class, my wife reached over. Her touch was sweaty yet reassuring. I didn’t need to see her to know she was smiling. “Great job, Pup,” she whispered, using the affectionate nickname she bestowed upon me when we first started dating.

I smiled to myself. That’ll do, Pup. That’ll do.

Chapter 2: Lessons Learned in the Heat

This music video captures the emotional highs and lows of love and frustration, much like my yoga experience. It serves as a reminder that the journey through discomfort can lead to profound insights.

This session walkthrough offers a glimpse into the struggles and triumphs one faces in the quest for self-discovery through yoga, much like my own journey.

What I’ve Gained from My First Encounter with Heat

1. Keep Your Body Clean: Avoid caffeine before class. Hydrate thoroughly, then hydrate some more. If you must eat, do so at least two hours before class. Opt for minimal clothing to allow for freedom of movement and better posture observation. A body free from digestive discomfort can better endure the heat.

2. Embrace Open-Eye Meditation: Yoga exemplifies the concept of ‘Mind Over Matter.’ It requires focus to calm a chaotic mind. Overthinking is exhausting. Save your energy during practice. Train your mind gently yet persistently. Eventually, the daunting heat can become your ally.

3. Listen and Trust: Have faith in your instructor, who aims to clarify yoga and protect you from distractions. Their consistent guidance during practice can be invaluable. They have been where you are, so benefit from their insights.

4. Understand Transience: Everything begins and ends. This too shall pass. The beauty of yoga lies in cultivating resilience and adaptability. It’s not just about physical conditioning; it’s a journey to rediscover your essence. We possess mental and emotional bodies alongside our physical one. Yoga provides a chance to clear our minds of clutter, freeing us from unnecessary burdens.

5. Explore Inner Space: We often obsess over the external world and seek possessions. The true treasure lies in exploring our inner selves. Yoga quiets the body and mind, allowing us to access our inner wisdom. Think of yoga as a portal to your innermost self—a meditative journey or the start of a long-overdue conversation.

Yoga has taught me much about perceived limitations, or rather, the barriers fear constructs. The world is ever-changing, and our roles within it are minor. What you achieve outwardly pales in comparison to what you cultivate within. I encourage you to stop seeking validation from a world that thrives on attachment through your actions.

Let's support one another.

Photo by Jeed Kenney

Thank you for allowing me to share this experience with you. Your engagement inspires my reflections. If you're interested in continuing this journey, feel free to explore my other writings on Medium.

For more about my work as a Mind-Body therapist, visit me at:

www.TheHandsoftheHeart.com

See you on the journey, fellow traveler.