Yoga was filling my body – with relaxation. I felt whole. My food cravings waned. My insatiable need to fill my face gave way to a hunger to nurture my spirit. 

By GALINA PEMBROKE 

I am sprawled across the floor, crying. 

My clothes no longer fit me. 

Yet I am not wallowing in defeat. These are not tears of sorrow. These are tears of relief. Relief that I am finally trim and fit. Relief that along with the pounds I have shed, I've shed the "baggage."

Though the yoga posture I'm sprawled out in is called "downward-facing dog," inside I’m looking up. Through yoga I have found the courage to examine what made me overweight. Yoga has taught me that the causes are far subtler than a plate piled high with food. 

Nine years ago, at 5'2" and 170 pounds, I was 30 percent overweight: clinically obese. Like most heavy people, I believed that the cause of my unhappiness was the growing number on the bathroom scale. I would stare at my expanding belly, convinced I was "fat" solely because of what I was eating.

In part, that was true. But more accurately, I was overweight because of what was eating me – inner emptiness, a longing for wholeness, a yearning for even a brief respite from depression.

It was a year later that I first picked up a tape on yoga and very quickly realized that my emptiness could be filled by something other than food. The slow breathing and self-calming postures of yoga soon gave me the insight that Doris wasn't really gone. Though I could no longer see her, I could reconnect with her on the ethereal plane. My heart and hers were reunited. Thanks to yoga's gentle philosophy, I was making peace with the universe. 

Yoga is Sanskrit for "union." Its purpose is to bring our spirits closer to the transcendent and eternal realm by balancing and harmonizing mind and body. Many people think of hatha yoga as a purely physical regime of "contorted" postures. However, properly performed, yoga of any kind makes no distinction between mental and physical. Serene body, serene mind. In fact, hatha yoga literally means "sun" (ha) and "moon" (tha), intimating a peaceful union of apparent opposites.

I needed that union. It was that need that persuaded me to substitute "downward-facing dog" for "upward-facing cheesecake chomp."

The movements and postures of hatha yoga (known as asanas) follow a patient, metered pace – the very opposite of the frenzy induced by stress. When I began my yoga practice at 170 pounds, that frenzy had me constantly reaching for the nearest bag of potato chips. Today, at 120 pounds, I'm more likely to reach for a banana. 

In 1993, my here-and-now was grief. With my most trusted confidante gone, who would ease my fears about grades, popularity, and finding Mr. Right? Who was going to love the new, "fat" Galina? 

It was during my first yoga session that I realized how these worries were feeding my weight problem. Halfway through the program I turned off the tape and pulled out a bag of Doritos! It was 6:30 p.m., and there was no time to prepare a meal and still make my seven o'clock movie date on time. As I struggled to break the tightly sealed bag, the absurdity suddenly hit home: I was about to wolf down a bag of salty, processed flour so I could be on time to sit for two hours in front of an oversized TV set. I called my friend to postpone the movie and returned to my yoga session.

I wish I could say I never ate that bag of Doritos. But from that day on, I ate everything – Doritos included – in smaller portions. Yoga was filling my body – with relaxation. I felt whole. My food cravings waned. My insatiable need to fill my face gave way to a hunger to nurture my spirit. 

People noticed the a change. I was more relaxed, less likely to race through the day. The stillness of the yoga postures had forced me to slow down. Whenever I would stand motionless in a geometric yoga posture, my external shape and my internal state bothimproved. So did my concentration. Instead of hurrying through my schoolwork, I took time to absorb and appreciate my biology textbook. Jay Leno could wait.

As I gained perspective, I shed stress. As I shed stress, I shed weight. Every pound lost was an issue resolved. Through yoga I came to understand that though I can't control death, the expectations of others, or the coming of Mr. Right, I can control my reaction to life’s uncertainties. I can look up instead of down. I can breathe slowly and remain calm. Thanks to my new body image, I walk more confidently and with greater ease. I notice myself eating less red meat, sugar, and fat. There is less late-night television in my life, a lot more fresh air. Yoga has attuned me to my body. I feel where I am tense and where I need to let go. When I stretch, I gently break through the stiffness and rigidity of body and mind. 

Five years ago, my weight plateaued at 120 pounds. Like my mind, it has remained stable. Last year, when my closest friend moved away, I did not eat to numb my pain. Instead, I cried - lots. It's uncomfortable to grieve, but it's healthier than ignoring my feelings – and certainly healthier than soothing myself with a king-size bag of Doritos. 

There are many forms of yoga; but for weight loss, Sivananda yoga is ideal. This five-point system integrates diet, postures, positive thinking, deep relaxation, and breathing exercises. Though it's best to learn Sivananda from a teacher, do-it-yourself books and videos are available too. In the end, your body's wisdom is your best teacher.

Nothing worthwhile happens overnight or without effort. As you practice yoga, when feelings of anger, grief, or other painful emotions arise, the old escape routes and distractions – overeating, overwork, overspending - will no longer silence them. Don't be afraid. Those feelings are simply there for you to release. And to release you.