Magic Mirror On The Wall

Magic mirror on the wall, whose leg extensions are the most tall? Whose waist and thighs are the most small? Who has the highest fouette turn count of them all?

As a ballet dancer, my relationship with mirrors and my body during my teenage and early adulthood years were complicated - at best, destructive - at worst. I often felt perplexed that something in my life that could give me such joy could also cause such pain. I got to the point that I thought the best thing to do at the time was to turn around and walk away from my reflection. Through a series of typical “trying to find oneself” life choices, I learned what we all discover at some point: we are reflected back to ourselves off of many other surfaces than just mirrors. I couldn’t turn away from my reflection, and I couldn’t turn away from dance.

I began investigating other styles of dance and fell in love with contemporary. While I have made peace with and still enjoy ballet, contemporary is my home sweet home. It was through contemporary classes that I was first introduced to yoga. Elements of vinyasa flow and meditation were used as warm ups or cool downs. For years, that was the extent of my yoga practice and knowledge. I had no interest in pursuing yoga any further as I perceived it to be a practice that was too slow, too bohemian, and way too get-down-with-your-inner-feelings for me.

Thankfully a roommate of mine in graduate school got me to see my past uninformed judgments came from fear, and I took her up on going to a Bikram hot yoga class in 2012. As someone who danced a few hours five to six days a week I figured it would be a piece of cake. I walked (as best as I could with legs of jello) out of my first class looking and feeling like a drowned rat and wondering how I made it through that hour and half of sweat infused torture alive.  Incredibly, that feeling was swiftly replaced by the same alertness and aliveness that radiates through my body after a great dance class. I was hooked. I kept going to the Bikram studio as many times as my schedule would allow for the next two years. 

At first I loved the physical challenge of moving in a different way and exploring different muscles than my dance training. But I soon found past habits of unrealistic expectations, negative self-talk, and physical overexertion from my ballet past sneaking up on me every time I stepped in front of the mirror for my practice. So I did what I had done in the past - I walked away. 

Shortly after I stopped practicing yoga, I graduated with my MFA. Being out of the college bubble meant less class opportunities, and I found myself feeling increasingly fragmented, constantly trying to pull, push, and mold my mind, body and spirit together like a jigsaw puzzle pieces that didn't quite fit together. The same roommate who convinced me to try Bikram was teaching at a new studio called Revolution Hot Yoga (RHY).  From her description of the teachers, community, and vision of the studio, I knew I needed to take a class there. I had a hard time getting over the fear that no one could promise me this would be any different than my last experience, but I needed movement exploration back in my life.

I fell in love with RHY and the teachers immediately. I loved the flexibility, creativity, and personal attention that occurred in every class. At first, it was all about moving in a calm yet challenging environment, but the day Rebecca (Jordan-Turner) sensed I was ready to go further and shifted my hips forward in camel pose was the day my practice shifted into meaning so much more.

I am most at home in a primary curve. Back bends scare me physically and emotionally, so when I was shown how to open up even more into the posture that day, the vulnerability was excruciating. I came back to child’s pose and stayed there for several postures collecting myself. When I finished cursing Rebecca in my head and re-joined the class, I realized that being vulnerable allowed for more connection within myself both in a physical and emotional sense. It amazes me how this simple shift has created a ripple effect throughout my practice of yoga and dance as well as my work as a choreographer and teacher.

It's hard to explain how profoundly practicing at RHY has impacted me. My practice there has increased my flexibility and stamina for dancing and has given me a place to focus on myself. But there is something greater – a sense of wholeness - a wonderful feeling that it's okay to just be present, trying, being.

So, magic mirror on the wall, you don’t seem so intimidating anymore, nope, not really at all.

This is Michele Trumble's yoga story.

Go to RHY website