The Class That Made Me Question Everything (and Then Stop Questioning)

Your eyes are closed. You breathe in through gritted teeth to offset the intensifying discomfort in your scrunched toes, hold it, and look upward toward something greater than you. When you can’t hold it any longer, you exhale, twisting your torso left and right, quicker and quicker. You wonder, not for the first time, if this is what it feels like to surrender, or to join a cult.

Maybe it’s both. Maybe it’s just what happens on Tuesdays at 5 p.m. in Kailey’s Kundalini-inspired class.

Before I took her class, I knew only that Kundalini yoga blended breathwork, repetitive postures, mantras, and meditation, led by instructors wearing weird white hats. Later, I’d learn how it can feel both physical and emotional, sometimes even confronting. It’s almost the opposite of a hot flow or vinyasa class, where you chase movement and sweat. Here, you sit with the discomfort instead of pushing past it. Forget perfect alignment or long flowing sequences; Kundalini is less about sculpting the body and more about moving energy through it.

The room always smells different, depending on the incense Kailey chooses. Often, it’s sage, a cleansing herb meant to clear bad energy, though sometimes it just makes me hungry and think about roast chicken. Kailey’s tone is calm and authoritative yet nurturing. Her words are steady, carrying an “I got you” kind of assurance. You could do the entire class without ever opening your eyes. In fact, you’re encouraged to.

The breathing can get intense. If you have low blood pressure like me, you might feel like you’re about to faint (sometimes). On other days, the breathwork calms me completely, leaving me with a strange sense of relief or even excitement. In the hours and days that follow, that energy shows up as opportunity: a new idea for an article, a gentler way to approach a disagreement with my daughter or finally deciding on the next colour of Align leggings I’ll buy.

Every class is different. One evening, we ended lying on our stomachs for savasana, which felt unusual. I could hear quiet crying. In all types of yoga, we’re taught to leave our egos at the door and respect each

other’s privacy. Sometimes I feel my own sniffles coming on as well; sometimes it's a feeling of sheepishness. Probably because, somewhere between the breath and Kailey’s prompts about “letting go of that which doesn’t serve you” along with “opening and expanding to the universe,” I realized something uncomfortable: my husband had been right about a fight we’d just had, and I wasn’t. It’s strange how clarity can come wrapped in exhaustion.

That’s what this class does. It makes you reflect, whether you like it or not, and forces you to look at things differently.

Did I want to go back? Yes. And I have been going back for over a year now. Sometimes I walk in with a sense of dread, usually when I’m upset or worried about something. I dread what the practice might reveal or that I might become overly emotional. Other times, when I’m feeling balanced and solid, I look forward to it as if I’m going to see a therapist, a mental/physical therapist, if there’s such a thing.

The repetition of breathing and physical movements, paired with Kailey’s clear yet deep prompts, challenges me to dig deeper into what I don’t know. Maybe that’s the power of it: doing something so simple, so repetitive, that it opens you up.

When I come home from class, I have too many questions. What is kriya? What exactly is somatic therapy? Is the wellness economy exploiting our incessant need to find meaning in life, or is it a legitimate thing? Haven’t I always been breathing in and out in all the yoga classes? And what do blocks have to do with breathing? I start to research, because that’s what I do as a writer. And then I stop.

And then I get it. This is the key: to stop. To let things come to me instead of chasing every answer. I don’t have to know everything right now. I can learn from the experience each class gives me, take in what I’m ready for, and trust that the rest will make sense when it needs to.

After a year of returning weekly, it’s become non-negotiable. If you wonder where I am, I’ll be at Kailey’s class on Tuesdays at 5 p.m. I’ve even signed up for the Kundalini Foundations Training, which starts at the end of November. Maybe I’ll see you there.