4 Steps To Finding Resilience And The New You

StandingAgainstPipeline

"We will stop the pipeline, and we will do it peacefully," said Catcher Cuts the Rope, an army veteran protesting on the North Dakota plains, this past September (Photo: Alyssa Schukar for the New York Times).

In today’s turbulent times, resilience is a much needed tool.  It helps us recover and show up in a new form, for ourselves and in the world, just like building a new house. Yoga can be a huge help in the process. 

Many of us in the U.S. are experiencing intense feelings of distress, right now. Many are having a hard time coming to terms with the presidential election results; racial injustice and endemic poverty are becoming more visible to those who were previously oblivious; as well as environmental and cultural crises, such as DAPL (Dakota Access Pipeline), the proposed construction of a major crude-oil pipeline that would have passed through the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe’s ancestral lands, in North Dakota, threatening the drinking water supply for a large part of the Midwest, in addition to the destruction of culturally sacred, protected land.

Right after the presidential election, as I contemplated the next steps for a divided country, one word came to me —Resilience. In material science, resilience is the ability of a material to deform elastically. One of my mentors, Laurent Malterre, a Parisian licensed psychologist, describes resilience as, “the capacity to find a new form, a ‘new house’, in a life that has been wounded.”

Each one of us has to find the “tools” that will help us build our own resilience, our own new house and new “self”. Here are the materials that work for me. I hope they’ll inspire you to find yours.

Acceptance

First, I’ve found that whatever difficult situation I’m faced with, I need to actually accept the situation. The key is time. Acceptance takes time and that’s perfectly okay. When I was diagnosed with my second breast cancer in June 2014, I first felt an un-describable sadness—Why me? How could life hit me that hard once again? It is only when I accepted the diagnosis (which took weeks) that I started to reach out to my inner healer and outside help.

Faith

Hope and faith are other components of resilience. Back 2.5 years ago, a powerfully intuitive friend of mine and a reflexologist, Rodrigue Vilmen, guided me through my medical treatments, sharing his insights. He started showing me how the universe was supporting me, in the smallest ways. I started paying attention to those small signs, and seeing them as positive energy and guidance for the next step.

The situation turned tricky, though. Complications following my surgery brought on an infection and an incision that simply wouldn’t heal. I felt so discouraged. Finally, one day, my surgeon said, “For the scar to heal, I need you to have faith.” From then on, I KNEW that I was going to heal, and accepted the process with patience. And sure enough, I did—months later, once I truly let go, and had faith.

Hope? Of course there's hope, just look at the adorable Jazmine! One year-old Jazmine is American of French and Guinean descent and my friends Helene and Alhassane's baby girl.

Voice and purpose

Finding my own voice has been one of the most powerful ingredients to resilience that I’m still currently in the process of uncovering. Who am I? What does my soul long for? What are my dreams? What is the purpose of my soul, and of my life? Taking tangible steps to live more aligned between what I feel, say and do has been the most beautiful gift I have offered to myself. The most recent step was to let go of my career of 25+ years as a business writer to dedicate more time to teaching and educating on yoga therapy.

Yoga

And lastly, there is yoga. I would not be who I am without yoga. Yoga helps me get back to my soul--to pause and feel where I am--to rest and to check in on the new house that I’m building. It helps me to find meaning in resilience—which, really, is all about finding the new me.

What about you, are you ready for the new “you”?

Symbols of two of my passions, right now--yoga and biking in downtown Atlanta.

How Yoga Therapy Found Me

Paris. 2005. With my girlfriends Antonella van Rumund (to the left), and Carole Pean Mathurin and Laurence Brunet (to the right). A month or so into chemo after being diagnosed with my first breast cancer, and shortly after I first started practicing yoga.

Paris. 2005. With my girlfriends Antonella van Rumund (to the left), and Carole Pean Mathurin and Laurence Brunet (to the right). A month or so into chemo after being diagnosed with my first breast cancer, and shortly after I first started practicing yoga. 

A life-threatening disease was the catalyst that first brought me to yoga. And once I discovered Yoga Therapy—I knew I had found my ”home.”

In a way, I came across Yoga Therapy the very first time I did yoga. It was end of 2004 in Paris, France. I had gone through surgery for breast cancer (#1) a month earlier, and felt hopeless and exhausted.

A friend dragged me to a yoga class at Aline Frati’s home studio. We were the only two students. And in that hour and a half, I went through a complete transformation. For the first time in my life, I actually connected with my body and felt its deep-rooted aches as well as its message of hope.

Aline has an incredible intuition about her. She has the ability to sense the students in her class like no other teacher I’ve ever met. And she’s able to deliver exactly what each person needs, at exactly the right moment. “The yoga I teach helps a person become aware of repetitive patterns –anxiety, fear- that come from early childhood, and free that energy up so it’s reintegrated in the body’s global energy,” she once explained to me.

After my treatments, I knew that it was my calling to teach yoga--to share with others the type of healing and transformation that I had experienced.

Aline Frati, my yoga teacher. Parisian, Aline has taught yoga for over 30 years. Her spiritual teacher, Jean Klein, is also the spiritual teacher of a member of the I.A.Y.T. Advisory Council, Richard Miller.

Love made me do the big leap from Paris to Atlanta, GA, in 2006, and three years later I started a 200-hour yoga teacher training in the city’s largest yoga training center, Peachtree Yoga Center. It was the first time I had ever stepped foot into an actual yoga studio. But soon after I began the training process I realized that something was amiss. This yoga felt drastically different from what Aline had introduced me to during that vulnerable period of my life.

An incredible Phoenix Rising Yoga instructor, Betsy Blount, taught there. Still, many of the classes were for “fit” students. I felt far from the powerful healing connectivity I felt back in France. Sure there were other types of yoga that were more gentle and restorative but still didn’t quite unite my spirit with my body and mind in the manner that I was seeking.

I started doubting--questioning if I had made a mistake. Should I teach a more “physical” yoga or restorative yoga to conform to what seemed to be the American way? Neither of these routes spoke to me. With the encouragement of mentors, I decided to stay true to myself, and start teaching my own style of yoga--the type that worked for me—“my yoga”.

I continued my training even in areas that seemed outside of the field of traditional yoga. In 2010 I trained in the art of Gestalt Therapy—an awareness practice that helps a person focus on the present moment and express their inner truth— at the Gestalt Institute of Atlanta. This was a natural move since I had personally benefited greatly from psychotherapy.

It was a year later, in 2011, that all of the dots finally connected for me. I landed in an anatomy workshop lead by physical therapist and yoga teacher, Marlysa Sullivan, who was then director of the Therapeutic Yoga Teacher training certification of the Pranakriya School of Yoga Healing Arts, in Atlanta. The workshop was part of the training’s curriculum, and for two hours, she led us in a therapeutic yoga class. Those two hours felt familiar. I finally experienced a type of yoga that was close to what I wanted to teach—geared entirely to help a person heal whether physically, emotionally or spiritually. Also, Pranakriya was based on the teachings that were the inspiration behind the Kripalu Center in Massachussetts, the largest yoga center in the U.S. which meant recognition and credibility.

Atlanta, 2013. At the end of the Pranakriya Therapeutic Yoga Teacher training.Standing, from L. to R.: Beth Zeigler, Allison Mitch, Anika Francis, Michelle Cox and I, all of us students. Kneeling: Marlysa Sullivan, program director (left), and Tra Kirkpatrick, internship director.

Today, I am part of a new and small community of Yoga Therapists. The field of Yoga Therapy is still in its infancy, and is currently establishing its standards. A pioneer at heart, I feel I’m here to break grounds, and share with the world –maybe you one day– the benefits of Yoga Therapy.

 

Ten Years of Body and Soul Connection in the U.S.A.

Nov-2006

End of 2006, freshly arrived in Atlanta, in my first "American" car.

I first came across a therapeutic form of yoga 12 years ago, and made the big move from Paris, France to Atlanta, GA, two years later. Here's how both aspects of my life have intertwined.

Tomorrow, it will be ten years since I moved from Paris to Atlanta. Love was the inspiration for that decision. The change was both enchanting and brutal. I was in a new world where I had to re-learn everything, while exploring my new existence with my American fiancé.

I had two beautiful things going on-- I spoke English and I had learned a form of therapeutic yoga in France, from going through a bout with breast cancer in 2004. Early every single morning I rolled out my yoga mat in our living room. My practice helped me navigate through the misunderstandings in my relationship, and the inevitable hazards of being a new immigrant.

Still, I felt I didn’t fit.

Six months later, I pushed through the door of a therapist’s office.  He listened and said, “Be who you are”. I felt an instant relief in my chest, and kept going.

I was finding my footing in my relationship, while working as a full time freelance business writer for a global company, and, at the same time, training to be a certified yoga therapy teacher.

In 2013, John and I bought a house, uprooting our secure suburban existence for life in “the hood”. The move left me feeling both shocked and relieved. For the first time in seven years I was finally experiencing something American that I could actually relate to. Our new hood on the South side had a similar feel (only a rougher version) to my old diverse, blue-collar, Parisian neighborhood.

The move unexpectedly helped reveal to me who I truly was--a person with a longing for deep connection. I began to realize that there was a major disconnect between who I was and what I was living – personally and professionally.

That’s when the “nuclear explosion” happened.

In 2014, I separated from John and flew to France. Upon arrival I was presented with a second breast cancer diagnosis. And that same week, my dad was diagnosed with lung cancer. We both locked in our fear, sadness and helplessness, and kept going.

To start healing, I had no other choice than turn inwards and look at my soul --who am I? What makes me unique? What do I want and need? Healers and loved ones held my hand along the way. I, once again, rolled out my yoga mat--my rehab center and sanctuary. Slowly, the breath brought the answers.

I returned to Atlanta in 2015. Three months later, my dad passed away, silently and softly--it was as if he did everything he could to avoid disturbing my healing. Since then, my grief and sadness have slowly emerged. These days I find myself rolling out my mat to find the space and peace on the yoga mat that will allow the new me to emerge.

With this blog, I want to explore and talk with you about yoga therapy, and how it can help us connect with our body and soul, and therefore our needs. Let’s start this beautiful journey together.