Buddying Up: An Adventure in Partner Yoga

My mom and I missed our regular yoga class on our regular day this week, so we decided to go to a different class last night. We both have been feeling like our practices have been a little stagnant lately, so we were looking forward to a new experience. Last night’s class started off in the typical way—meditation, some sun salutations—and then the teacher seemed to realize that all of us were there with a buddy. There were two couples, a few pairs of friends, and my mom and me, so she asked us if we’d like to use the class to practice partner yoga. I’ve been in classes where we’ve dabbled in partner yoga during a handful of poses, but I had never been in a class that was wholly dedicated to it, so I put in my vote for partner yoga. Fortunately, everyone else did, too.

It turned out to be an amazing class. Solo yoga has been such a great companion to my recovery, in the sense that it teaches me to focus on myself and feel my feelings without judgment and then take what I work through within myself to my relationships. But this partner yoga session helped me see my relationship with myself and how it extends to other people, and in many ways specifically to my relationship with my mom, in a somewhat more obvious way.

We did a ton of poses, but a few really stand out to me in hindsight. During double tree pose (above) and a few other balance postures, I noticed that whenever one of us started to wobble, my first instinct was to grasp my mom tighter. But if I just focused on my breathing and set my eyes on a point in the distance, I’d then feel my grip loosen to the point that my hand was simply resting on my mom’s shoulder. Her grip would also slowly loosen and we’d begin breathing in unison, until we stood completely still without wobbling. Another thing I observed was that whenever our teacher made a correction to one person’s alignment, we’d begin to teeter until we almost fell, and then the other person who she hadn’t touched would automatically find the correct alignment to complement the other person’s. The balance poses showed such tangible evidence of what happens when we let go, focus on ourselves, and how the other person either follows suit or the relationship topples.


Another interesting pose was a heart opener (above) in which one person assumes child’s pose while the other person lies across their back in a partial backbend. My mom did the child’s pose first, and when it came time to switch, she gave me some advice: “Don’t resist. At first you feel like you’re going to suffocate, but if you let go, it creates a lot of space.” And it was true—being that enveloped by someone else felt claustrophobic in the first few seconds, but once I surrendered to it, I felt my spine lengthen and grow, and my breathing noticeably deepened. It gave me a wonderful stretch, and I felt rejuvenated and realigned when I came out of it.

The final pose that stuck out to me was a variation of the child’s pose/heart opener (unfortunately, I couldn’t find a photo that illustrates this one). The only difference was that the person on the bottom was in tabletop (on hands and knees). This time, I was the first to assume the supportive position (tabletop). My mom began to stretch out on top of me, but it didn’t feel like we were totally aligned, so I explained how she could adjust to make it more comfortable for me (“Talk to each other,” our teacher kept saying. “Tell the other person what you need).

Well, my mom started experiencing a lot of fear, and quickly got off my back. “I’m too heavy for her,” she told the teacher. “I’m going to hurt her.” (My mom is taller and has a larger frame than I do.) “No you’re not,” the teacher and I both said at once. And then the teacher went on to explain, “The spine is incredibly strong—your daughter can support you.” This was an interesting scenario, because one of the things that drives my siblings and me crazy about our mother is that she very rarely asks for help or allows us to support her. Anyway, she eventually agreed to try again and, once we were comfortably aligned, I felt her relax and I experienced the strength and resilience of my spine—it felt incredible to confidently support my mother, to do the work while she let go.

My mom and I left the class giddy about how much we had learned about ourselves and our relationship, and excited about how, by supporting each other, we had even managed to reach some of our previously unattained physical goals. And, even though my mom’s and my relationship is fairly healthy—not perfect, but not completely dysfunctional—it felt like we had reached a new level of trust and closeness. I also left thinking about how, though partner yoga can be therapeutic for any relationship (I’ve walked away with amazing insights even when I’ve done poses with complete strangers in other classes), it could be especially helpful in addictive relationships in which trust and intimacy are seriously lacking.