Savasana, also known as corpse pose, is practically synonymous with yoga itself. Picture this: you've just flowed through a challenging sequence, your muscles are warm, your breath is deep, and then... the instructor's gentle voice guides you to lie down for final relaxation.
Bliss, right? Well, for many, yes. But for me, Savasana used to be the most dreaded part of any yoga class.
Instructors would announce it with a smile, and I would inwardly groan. While everyone else seemed to melt into the floor, I'd be fighting the urge to cough, fidgeting with discomfort, and desperately wishing I didn't have to close my eyes.
I felt like a failure. Why couldn't I relax and just do what the instructor said? Why did this pose, designed for stillness and surrender, fill me with anxiety?
It wasn't until I embarked on my yoga teacher training that I learned the answer: trauma. My body, conditioned by past experiences, perceived vulnerability in this state of surrender. Lying flat on my back, eyes closed, felt like relinquishing control, a terrifying prospect for someone who had learned to stay vigilant.
The Trauma Response and Savasana
I'm still learning about trauma and trauma-informed yoga, but for now, I'll say for those of us with trauma histories (and that is most, if not all of us), the nervous system can be on high alert, constantly scanning for danger. Savasana, with its emphasis on stillness and surrender, can trigger this hypervigilance. The physical sensations associated with the pose – the feeling of being grounded, the lack of physical exertion – can be misinterpreted as signs of vulnerability.
In my case, the coughing fits were a somatic manifestation of this anxiety. My body, unable to process the perceived threat through fight or flight, found another outlet for the pent-up tension. Plus, when you are flat on your back, if you have any respiratory conditions, your lungs have a tendency to drain any unwanted fluids.
Learning to Befriend Savasana
Understanding the connection between my trauma response and my aversion to Savasana was a crucial first step. It allowed me to approach the pose with compassion and curiosity rather than judgment. Here are some strategies that helped me gradually befriend Savasana:
- Props and Modifications: Using props like blankets under my knees or a pillow under my head made the pose more physically comfortable. I also love the variation of doing the pose on your stomach instead of your back.
- Gradual Exposure: Starting with shorter durations of Savasana and gradually increasing the time helped me build tolerance and trust.
- Mindful Awareness: Paying attention to my breath and bodily sensations without judgment allowed me to observe my anxiety without getting swept away by it.
- Affirmations: Repeating calming affirmations like "I am safe" or "I am held" helped to soothe my nervous system.
- Self-Compassion: Recognizing that my discomfort was a natural response to past experiences allowed me to approach myself with kindness and understanding instead of feeling frustrated that I didn't appreciate a pose that was supposed to be so ultimately relaxing.
Savasana as a Healing Practice
While Savasana may initially be challenging for trauma survivors, it can also be a powerful tool for healing. By consciously choosing to relax and surrender, we can begin to rewire our nervous system and cultivate a sense of safety within our own bodies.
The journey towards embracing Savasana may not be linear, and that's okay. It's about showing up with compassion, honoring your body's limitations, and gradually cultivating a sense of trust and surrender. And who knows, you might even find yourself looking forward to that final resting pose one day. Try some props and modifications and see what you think. I'd love to hear how it goes.
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