My life was a dance of extreme existence, always living on the edge, addicted to anything that gave me an adrenaline rush. That cycle had only one outcome: overcommitment and burnout.
“For most of my working life, I have been a cog in the wheel of the blue-collar industries of concreting, mining, and serving as an infantryman in the Australian Army. Leaving school early (after barely scraping through), then completing an apprenticeship as the iconic ‘Aussie Rat Bag’, I’d go to work, get paid, party, rinse, repeat.”
Add a family, a mortgage, and bills to this cycle, and the apprentice needed to find a new trade. Life quickly became unmanageable with no room for self-love or care, spinning out of control fast and slipping into ruts of anxiety and depression.
As a front-seat passenger for all of this, my wife has been with me through the thick of it.
As a social worker and a yoga student, she knew the benefits it could bring. So one evening, when I was down, she suggested I give yoga a try.
At that point, yoga, or my perception of it, was the last thing I wanted. There was no sparring, no loud music, and no males competing against each other for dominance; as a matter of fact, not many males at all practiced yoga that I had heard of.
But with my curious nature of all things new, I agreed to try it just once.
When I arrived at the class with a five-dollar yoga mat in hand I quickly realised there was not another man in sight. I instantly felt like this was a mistake. I’d end up breaking my neck trying to pull off some advanced move to prove I could handle it, or worse, I would be shamed or called a creep.
By the time I reached the door, my anxiety had halved; there was something in the air that I had never experienced, something I had been searching for but didn’t know existed.
There was no overwhelming masculinity, no crude language, no shouting – just calm. Over the next 90 minutes, this class planted a seed and changed me forever. It was the feeling of acceptance, and the first step in my journey to self-love and connection to the collective consciousness.
“Unlike anything I’ve experienced before, yoga drew me inward.”
It was not a quick fix or an adrenaline rush; gradually, I felt a positive shift in my attitude, moving from an emotionally driven adrenalin junkie to a conservative, positive person who didn’t strive for social acceptance. I began researching and trying to understand what this thing was that was rebuilding my mental state and letting me heal from past trauma – the thing that was allowing me to accept and love who I am.
There were still ebbs and flows of depression or anxiety, but each episode was becoming shorter and more manageable.
What I found was not new. Thousands of years of historical accounts and modern science show evidence of yoga’s effectiveness as a tool to regulate symptoms of mental illness.
I was not able to recognise my old self, as layer by layer, I positively rebuilt my whole way of thinking, reacting and mental conditioning.
“One morning, I had just finished a yoga class and was walking to my car feeling entirely at ease and relaxed when I thought, ‘If I can change, then so can other men.'”
With perfect clarity, I decided to become a yoga teacher to share this feeling of ease with anyone wanting to learn another way.
I wanted to be part of breaking down the stigma around men taking responsibility for their wellbeing. I decided to head to the birthplace of yoga – India – and study Hatha yoga of the Sivananda lineage.
Hatha yoga was the path that opened my mind to acknowledge the truth and power of change. It gave me the physical and mental health to commit fully to my duties and give back to the community as a yoga teacher.
Like the millions of men across the world struggling with mental health, I have been there, seen and felt the worst of it.
“Yet I am proof that change is possible, and can begin by rolling out of a five-dollar mat.”
Thanks to my teacher and mentor Janine Luck of the yoga hub Mount Isa. Her practice and guidance helped me choose the path I’m on.
Photos by Telisha Crisp Photography.
