It’s no secret that many Jews struggle with anxiety. All of the displacement, persecution, trauma we’ve faced… Plus, all that good stuff can affect the nervous system, rumor has it. (Not to mention science.)
I’ve done a lot of research on intergenerational trauma—I recently recommended a book on the topic—and it makes a lot of sense to me.
Five years ago, I was even certified as a yoga teacher, in order to learn more about how the practice of yoga was so effective at calming my anxious mind.
WHOA. How did we get there?
Let’s backtrack.
When I was around 18 years old, I was experiencing a lot of anxiety. (Did I know it was anxiety back then? Nope! Yay for retroactive learning!) I felt a constant tension in my shoulders and had no idea where it was coming from, plus a constant feeling of not having enough time. I put a heat pack on my shoulders, thinking it must be a muscular problem, rather than mental.
Eventually, when this method of healing my shoulders proved ineffective, it dawned on me that maybe it was in my head after all.
I’d heard about the practice of yoga, which originated in India, and knew how to do a basic sun salutation. But not much more.
So, I decided to try looking up yoga on good ol’ YouTube.
I found a great video, which in just 15 minutes completely got me out of my head and into my body. After doing the exercises daily for a good while, my mind cleared, my shoulders dropped and I could continue focusing on my school work with ease.
A few years later, I felt called to come back to this video. On a whim, I decided to look up the instructor.
I was shocked to discover that she lived in Vancouver! I had always assumed she was American.
I tweeted at her, thanking her for saving me from boatloads of anxiety—and she responded!
I knew I needed to meet her.
So, at 21, I finally flew down to Vancouver by myself to take her class and chat.
It was surreal. The voice I was used to hearing coming from my laptop coming from a living breathing human. Strangely enough, I felt nervous upon walking into the studio! Almost like I was about to go on stage.
After class, we talked and I ended up asking to do a private lesson with her. Having flown all the way across the country—might as well take advantage, I reasoned.
In our private class, I learned: (a) I’d be doing almost every pose wrong (there’s only so much you can learn from YouTube, it seems) (b) She offered a six-month yoga teacher training, along with another well-known instructor in Vancouver.
I wasn’t sure whether I would want to teach or not, but I knew I wanted to deepen my practice and actually learn the poses correctly. If anything, I’d be able to instruct myself at home and keep up my great anxiety reduction technique.
The energy of Vancouver also drew me in, on that trip, with its gorgeous mountains and slow-pace. It felt magical.
A year later, I moved down there for half a year to partake in the training.
OK, now, since this is The CJN, let’s bring in how Jewish identity fits into all of this.
Yoga, as my teacher explained, is a philosophy rather than a religion. (Phew.)
However, as part of the course, we were asked to read the Hindu book of scripture, The Baghavad Gita.
The moment where my own religious background glaringly stood out was when we started learning about mantras.
Arriving at the studio that morning, I noticed little statues of Hindu deities in the center of the room.
I felt uncomfortable, having learned long ago that Jews are commanded not to worship idols. Did this count as praying or not? Debatable, but I couldn’t bring myself to say the sanskrit mantras while looking at these statues.
After class, I approached my teacher with my concerns and she reassured me that if I didn’t feel comfortable, I could listen instead—explaining that they’d once had a practicing Christian teacher-in-training and she hadn’t felt comfortable either.
She also told me that the way she saw it wasn’t that we were praying to [insert Hindu god or goddess of choice] but channeling the part of ourselves that it symbolizes. For example, Shiva is the goddess of destruction and recreation. “One can look at the part of themselves that is capable of creating change,” she explained.
That soothed me for a bit, but it still felt a bit off, so I decided to forego that part of the practice. These were just tools, not requirements.
Fast forward to now.
I’ve been practicing yoga for almost a decade and was teaching, off and on, until the pandemic began.
***
Having recently re-integrated certain Jewish practices like Shabbat back into my life, I realize that a big part of my yoga journey was seeking to find something I already had.
That sense of spirituality and meaning was there all along in Judaism.
I’ve even discovered that Judaism has its own meditation practices (Jewish Meditation: A Practical Guide by Aryeh Kaplan is a good starter source) and certain elements of our rituals, like shuckling (the back and forth motion one makes while praying) are ways of connecting mind and body.
I still practice yoga almost every day—because while Shabbat is great, I need something during the week to keep my mind and spirit at ease.
“Yoga is our breakfast,” I was once told by a fellow enthusiast. And it’s true. I’m so much more aligned, on a physical, mental and spiritual level, throughout my day when I do it in the morning.
The practice teaches you to breathe through discomfort and be with what is. What a beautiful addition to the practices we already have. So, thank you yogi masters!
(Pro tip: for free relaxing yoga and meditation videos, check out The Yoga Ranger and Carolyn Anne Budgell on YouTube. I use those channels all of the time.)
Ilana is heading to the Hammer
I’m excited to announce that I’ll be hosting another podcast, which means one more Jewish media role beyond The CJN’s weekly current affairs show Bonjour Chai, not to mention this column.
The Spiel on Hamilton will be a monthly podcast about life just a little further west from where I live now.
Topics will include local history, current events and community life. I’ll be interviewing all sorts of Hamilton’s Jewish residents, from local rabbis to young parents who just moved to town.
It’s a fast-growing community, thanks to younger Jews who’ve found it a more affordable and accessible alternative to Toronto. A place that was seen as declining for decades now finds itself a more desirable place to settle down.
It’s an ongoing story that I’m honoured to play a role in telling to audiences everywhere.
The Spiel is brought to you by the Hamilton Jewish News, as a big part of its initiative to draw a younger readership. Look out for more info soon!
Ilana Zackon can be reached at ilanawritesthings[@]gmail.com and found on Facebook and Instagram.
HEAR what else she has to say every week on Bonjour Chai
