Megan Just
Practice Pages: Yoga Therapy
Yoga in Iraq: Inner Journeys Provide Sanctuary
One of the keys to survival in a mortar attack is to hit the ground as quickly as possible. During one such moment, I happened to be close the ground already since I had just lowered my body into chaturanga (four limbs pose or the lowest of push-ups). It was during Yoga practice, midway through my six-month deployment to Victory Base Complex in I Iraq. Being sent to landlocked Iraq came as a surprise to me, as I was a seagoing officer in the United States Navy. Yoga class, held three evenings a week, quickly became my salvation. They were a brief respite from the stresses of daily life in a combat zone.
The Yoga studio was actually a makeshift aerobics room inside the circus-sized tent housing the base gym. Thankfully, the tent was air conditioned; this counteracted summer temperatures that commonly exceeded 120 degrees Fahrenheit. Imagine the scene and picture a Yoga class in a typical studio or gym, add three times as many people (mostly men), dress them in camouflage uniforms and stash M-16s along the walls. By the time we were ready to begin class, there would be three long rows of people with nine inches between each mat and extra people crammed sideways in short rows next to the teacher. I later learned that the classes were taught by American Army or Navy officers (not necessarily certified Yoga instructors) who practiced Yoga at home in the US and volunteered their time to plan and teach class. The style and type of Yoga we practiced depended completely on the leader. This resulted in some very creative combinations, especially when they would sneak in Pilates or gymnastic moves and abdominal work.
The military yogis were dressed in camouflage pants, which may appear baggy and comfortable from the outside, but are actually made of a rigid fabric treated with enough bug repellant to last fifty washings. A few of the more daring service members ignored uniform regulations and rolled up their pant legs to their knees.
Although most of the people practicing served in the military, there were a sizeable number of civilians instantly identified by their conventional workout clothing. These included contractors specializing in off-base security operations, military technical advisers, Arabic interpreters who were embedded members of Army ground units, people working for nongovernmental nonprofit organizations striving to improve human rights conditions and even those working in hospitality.
Class began when the instructor closed the door, which did little to block the gym noise since the makeshift walls didn’t extend to the tent roof and the Yoga class was held precisely at the gym’s busiest time. We settled into preliminary breathing exercises to the melody of free weights crashing to the floor, hip-hop music and the repetitive “pound, pound, ding!” of boxers at the speed bags. We also heard snippets of conversation from the power lifters who peered in disdainfully as they made a beeline for the squat racks.
Instead of Yoga mats, we had access to a bin of squishy, grey foam camping mats or a pile of black, torso-sized Naugahyde mats. Both were dangerously slick. So much so that downward facing dog quickly turned into plank pose. The black mats were so thick they made any sort of balancing maneuver impossible. It was easy to pick out the Yoga regulars: they practiced on Yoga mats sent from home. Then there was the floor – a sand-covered mess of black panels puzzle-pieced together.
The stresses of life in a combat zone are many, even in a relatively safe location like Victory Base Complex. Most of the 56,000 people stationed there have rarely (if at all) ventured outside the four-meter wall surrounding the compound. Rocket and mortar attacks are not uncommon, even inside the walls. During my six-month deployment, there were two attacks during Yoga class alone. One was during my previously mentioned chaturanga moment. A month after that incident, we were in downward facing dog and there was nothing to do but drop all the way to the ground and wait for the “all clear” to sound on the PA system. This was a practice in and of itself.
Aside from rocket and mortar attacks, we faced the lethal danger of being pegged by the stray rounds that sometimes came zipping into the base from Iraq outside the walls. Another big danger was the high incidence of occupational accidents such as inadvertent weapon discharge, heat shock and Humvee accidents. There were also rampant rumors about kidnapping, assault and rape. The rumors were especially believable at night when the unlit base growled with the sinister sounds of hardworking generators and heavy equipment. Other major stressors for those living in a combat zone included: long deployments, lack of privacy, cramped offices and living areas, communal showers and bathrooms, little time to sleep and lack of holidays or even days off.
Socially, it was also tough; the stiff and formal military-dominated social structure with strict rules of rank tended to separate people who might otherwise have been friends while deployment rotations made it even more difficult to establish meaningful relationships.
Yoga offered a valuable way to cope with all of these pressures and stresses since it settles the body and calms the mind. The purposeful clearing of the mind is not an easy task for people who have become accustomed to living amped up on adrenaline. So when mental silence was achieved, it was all the more freeing.
The Yoga class at Victory Base Complex introduced numerous people to the practice. They thrived by relaxing their minds and enjoyed the physical benefits of strength and flexibility. New students learned to listen to their bodies, discovering where they carried their anxiety and how to release it. Most importantly, Yoga class was a well-deserved mental sabbatical from the gnawing fear of events that were completely out of their control.
Yoga class also offered an opportunity for normal socialization since rank-bearing camouflage shirts were left behind, allowing for a momentary environment of equality and anonymity. The camaraderie would often spill over into communal dinners where the common uniform of this group was marked by the brightly colored Yoga mats worn slung across their backs.
Throughout my five years in the Navy, I noticed a dramatic increase in the numbers of Yoga classes offered at base gyms in the United States. It seems to me that everyone is catching on to the fact that the military needs Yoga. I’ve also noticed that many Yoga studios in military towns offer discounts to service members. Even veteran’s rehabilitation organizations are beginning to send veterans of wars old and new to Yoga studios. They are increasingly recognizing Yoga’s positive impact on helping veterans address PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder).
My own pre-deployment training took place at Fort Bliss, Texas, where I took Yoga classes at the base gym before my teacher referred me to Yoga for Life, an Iyengar studio in town. When Carol, the owner, discovered I was soon leaving for Iraq, she refused to let me pay for classes. Previously at Yoga studios, I had been hesitant to tell people that I was in the military. Thanks to Carol’s grace, I have greater confidence in the acceptance of military personnel by the Yoga community. And thanks to my experiences on bases in the US and overseas, I have a greater hope for the increased inclusion of Yoga, which is much-needed, in the military to support journeys both inner and outer.
Megan Just recently finished her military obligation and is now enjoying her freedom, living on the shores of Lake Tahoe in California. She now practices Yoga in soft, comfortable clothing instead of itchy camouflage cargo pants. She may be reached at: megan.f.just@gmail.com.
By Megan Just
