How Hatha Yoga helped me navigate through death of a loved one

Sometimes we’re seeking forgiveness from God when we really should be working on self-forgiveness.

Experiencing the loss of a loved one is one of life's most profound challenges.

Recently, I faced this when I stood by my uncle, David, as he took his last breath. Known for his vivacious spirit and what some might call a wild streak, David taught me invaluable lessons—how to be strong, fix my car, and stand up for myself. Over time, after college, I married and moved away, caught up in my own world, not realizing that those I loved were suffering in silence.

My uncle battled liver disease, and his body finally decided it could no longer fight. I received a call from my mom, “Please call your cousin, your uncle is in the hospital.” Unable to travel from NY to NJ due to her blindness, I went in her stead.

My Journey with Yoga

I had been practicing yoga off and on before taking it seriously in 2018, immersing myself in a teacher training program where I was first introduced to Hatha Yoga. Initially, I thought I would teach part-time, but then COVID hit. Yoga then became a source of spiritual healing for me.

The Influence of yoga teacher, Tirumalai Krishnamacharya

I didn’t realize it at the time, but this practice would truly support my students and myself through difficult times. Both my Hatha and Iyengar yoga teachers had lineages connected to Tirumalai Krishnamacharya, and I am grateful to have been led to this path.

At the Deathbed

My loud and crazy uncle, a man of 6ft in stature, was now an emaciated and quiet man, struggling to breathe. “He’s so strong, how?” But I knew. The father figure who taught me so much was finally getting tired of fighting. My daughter and I arrived at the hospital. Though he couldn’t speak or show expression, I knew he was elated that we arrived—his heart rate went up. A few more family members, his daughters, and older grandchildren arrived to bid their goodbyes. I stayed behind. His middle daughter spoke to him, assuring him that all was well. As I was about to leave, I paused. Samadhi.

I walked over to my uncle’s side, spoke to him gently, thanking him for teaching me so much and asking him to watch over his stubborn sister, my mom. At that point, I was able to bear witness as his light slowly dimmed. “It’s time,” I said, guiding my young cousin to hold his hand. “Assure him that all is well,” I whispered, witnessing the beautiful transition of spirit leaving the body. Samadhi…spiritual liberation.

Though my uncle may not have practiced yoga, he found peace, forgave himself for his past, built bridges with his children, and brought a long-separated family together.

I’ve been blessed to bear witness to births, and I’m grateful that this practice has helped me bear witness to the beauty of transition.