by Andrea Rice: Yoga for veterans of war has become widespread in recent years…

Awaken

Many studios and national organizations like the Wounded Warrior Project offer adaptive yoga classes catered specifically to veterans and military personnel, and special trainings for teachers to guide this sensitive demographic accordingly. Innumerable benefits for veterans who practice yoga have been studied and documented extensively, proving the power in this modality to help treat PTSD and other types of mental and physical trauma.

But for Dan Nevins—a veteran of the second Iraq war who despite losing both his legs became a certified Baptiste yoga teacher—the popularity of yoga for veterans misses the mark to some degree. He ascertains that while many organizations are doing a good job of encouraging veterans to do yoga, he worries of the potential for alienating veterans to the practice by labeling them as such. “Veterans are just human beings; human beings who wear a label that insinuates suffering because we’ve been at war for 15 years,” he said in an interview. “And if we all had to wear labels or signs that identified us as someone living with traumatic experiences, I feel we would be hard pressed to find and adult who didn’t wear a sign,” he added.

While Nevins will claim that practicing yoga did indeed save his life, what really stood out for him was that for the first time since losing his legs, he was able to fully accept himself as “the same” as any other human being. “The power for me was realizing that my emotional scars and trauma were no different than anyone else’s—that I wasn’t damaged or different from anyone else,” he said.

Through yoga, Nevins learned how to heal from the invisible wounds of war, and absolve himself of the shame he carried in his legs. The practice helped him accept his injuries very early on in his recovery, which allowed him to excel in other physical activities with the use of his prosthetic limbs. Nevins continues to share his wisdom and teachings around the world, most recently at an Air Force base in Qatar. And wherever he goes, his message is always the same: “Invite a veteran to yoga, and you just might save their life.”

We recently caught up with Nevins to ask him about the power of yoga for veterans, but also to gain more insight as to how we might better encourage veterans to establish a long-term healthy practice. The following is an excerpt from that interview.

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YNON: Why do you think yoga saved your life?

DN: Looking back now and ahead to the future, I can’t imagine my life without yoga… sharing yoga, teaching yoga, living yoga. Now that yoga is in my life, and that I am a part of sharing it around the world and with the military and veteran community that I love so much, it’s like I’m living my life’s purpose for the first time.

How exactly is the popularity of yoga for veterans missing the mark?

I feel that the potential of turning veterans and warriors “off” to yoga and potentially doing more harm than good, exists in the increasing popularity. For instance, some of the veteran specific, trauma-informed yoga trainings speak to avoiding hands-on assisting, and specifically avoiding potential PTSD triggers at all costs. Much of the training that is available now I feel is too sensitive and doesn’t promote healing. We are not in combat in a yoga studio, so in my opinion, it’s fine to acknowledge the potential triggers, but not reinforce their legitimacy by teaching to avoid them at all costs. By learning to focus on what is real is how I found the healing and peace that I have now. I just want the same for everyone else like me, and that doesn’t happen when we’re stuck in a reality where our triggers are validated and reinforced.

What is a better way to get more veterans into yoga without having to label them as veterans?

Ideally their friends, relatives, and neighbors who already have a practice could invite them to yoga—as a human being, not as a “veteran.” If you know a veteran who has served in the last 13 years, chances are they’ve experienced trauma. Yoga studios or even office buildings around the world are full of people who’ve also experienced trauma, yet there aren’t specialized trainings to deal with them. It’s the yoga that works, and that works for veterans, too. I think veterans just need to break away the stigma of yoga not being physically challenging, because all of us who partake in this practice know there is nothing that is NOT challenging about yoga.

Do you think that yoga offered to the military as part of a regular fitness and wellness regimen could exist as a preventative measure for trauma? 

Yoga is practiced in the special operations community in the military, and it’s becoming more popular. My guess is that it’s delivered as simply asana, which is great. It is my biggest wish to partner somehow with the Department of Defense to bring yoga in a more meaningful way to all branches of service.

Tell us more about some of the veterans you’ve worked with who’ve benefited from yoga.

I’ve heard so many stories about veterans healing through yoga than I can even count. It fills me up to hear all the stories and keeps me grounded in the notion that I’m doing exactly what I’m supposed to be doing. Everything from recovering after attempted suicide, to coming off of drugs, alcohol, and prescription medication. I know personally how powerful that is. Yoga is changing lives, and I feel lucky that I was hurt so severely (physically). Because I don’t have legs, people listen a little harder and they try a little harder. They give it another chance, another day, and with that grace will inevitably come transformation—from broken to whole; from resigned to lit up with possibility. There is no way that I can NOT teach yoga—it’s in me forever.

Do you think that yoga and meditation are some of the best ways to promote healing from trauma?

Yoga, mindfulness, and meditation are some of the best ways to promote healing from trauma, but I’ve seen other discipline-specific therapies work. But in my experience, none are as pure and profound as a yoga practice that includes asana, inquiry, and meditation. And the lessons learned can carry over into other activities that are mindfulness-based: like golf, tennis, art, fishing, and hunting. I personally am not a hunter… however, hunting when done with intention and necessity can produce the same wonderful, meditative and healing outcomes. The truth is there is yoga in everything—it’s all in our approach that creates the results we want.

Describe the moment in your yoga training where you realized you weren’t “damaged or different from anyone else.”

When I went to my Baptiste Level 1 teacher training, I did so with a chip on my shoulder. I had heard there would be portions of the training where we’d be encouraged to share our stories—the things that “damaged” us. So I went in thinking, “These yoga people don’t want to know my stories… they can’t handle my stories.” I didn’t really want to share stories about fighting a war somewhere else… those back at home didn’t need know what it took to live the way we did. Sharing this seemed counterintuitive, but it was also something I was dreading.

I was already the “male wounded warrior” in my yoga teacher training who didn’t have any legs. It was like I was wearing a blinking neon sign that said: “Damaged” inside and out. I was tense and my guard was up, until one young woman got up to share. She was probably late 20’s or early 30’s, and was super fit, decked out in Lululemon, attractive, and all around put together. I remember literally verbatim, saying to myself: “What does she have to share about? Did she spill her latte in her Range Rover on the way to yoga?” But as the words started coming out of her mouth about a childhood that I couldn’t even imagine, I remember saying to myself that I wouldn’t trade my “baggage” for hers. I could feel the weight of having judged her, but that’s when it got clear to me that we ALL deal with our own stories… our own baggage.

There is always going to be someone who has it worse than me. In those moments, I realized that the chip on my shoulder was bullshit; that my trauma was mine, and others had theirs, and that we were all there to learn and grow and heal together. I no longer felt like the broken, wounded veteran in the room with a blinking neon sign. I was just another human being trying to heal and grow. That moment changed everything for me—how I see myself and how I see others. I’m eternally grateful for that lesson.

Source: AWAKEN