LOCAL CONNECTION
Breathe, stretch, save Tiffany had reached a point of no return with drugs. Yoga helped her to step back, she tells Sarah Nottage. PHOTOGRAPHY STEVE HUSSEY
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s a child, Tiffany Fleetwood-Bird spent a lot of time upside down. Whether it was doing handstands or somersaults, she was always on the move. At 17, having grown up with her brother as perfectly behaved children in the white, middleclass sailing town of Lymington on Britain’s south coast, with extremely strict parents, Tiffany cried, “Get me out of this”. “I just wanted to annoy my parents, so I moved to London, started using heroin, completed a fashion degree, shaved my hair, grew dreadlocks, dyed them a variety of colours – my preference was purple – covered myself in piercings, and found groups of people who were totally out of control. I was right in there with them.” Her parents would pick her up and take her home. She would run back to London. Eventually the gaps between running away lengthened when Tiffany began working at a residential home for non-verbal autistic children with severe, violent behaviours. She often needed medical treatment for broken fingers, bites and scratches, which are still visible on her hands. “I didn’t care about me. I was disassociated from my own body, so didn’t mind the physical abuse.” What Tiffany quickly learned was how to communicate with the children by reading their subtle, non-verbal cues. “If you got it wrong you would receive a table in your face.”
Looking beyond herself
For the first time in her life, her focus shifted from her internal self to the external world. She began feeling compassion for
“I threw myself at yoga 120 percent because I had reached the point where I needed to do something.” T I F FA N Y F L E E T W O O D - B I R D
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other human beings, an experience she relates to the Mysore (self-practice) approach she now uses to teach yoga. “I am able to get to know each of my students as individuals. I meet them where they are at in their lives.” Tiffany started drifting around the world, deciding to try yoga 20 years ago at an ashram in Kathmandu, Nepal, which was run by a ‘tiny Indian dude’. Initially attracted to the physical aspect, she began reading about yoga, saying she realised there was “a whole lot more going on – a way of life that included an alternative world view, which was intriguing”.
Don’t just switch off
After visiting Australia and experiencing the more physical, funky side, Tiffany tried an Iyengar yoga class in her hometown, “full of retired old biddies in leotards and tights, all doing the most amazing poses using props”. She was blown away by the intensity of the physical experience, the knowledge that yoga could be for any age, body shape or fitness level, and an overwhelming feeling of peace. Although Tiffany was no longer using heroin, she describes a transitional period where she mixed ‘party’ drugs and booze with yoga practice. “You don’t just switch off. Some make it, some don’t. If I hadn’t made it, I wouldn’t be here at all, to be honest. “I remember having a massive night and attempting to do headstands in yoga class the next morning. I felt so ill. I realised yoga was really important to me so I needed to stop partying. I threw myself at yoga 120 percent because I had reached the point where I needed to do something.” In those days, yoga had a reputation for being practised by ‘mung-bean, vegetarian weirdos’ – her mother was concerned she was going off to join a cult. Tiffany trained as a yoga teacher in Byron Bay, Australia (one of her favourite places in the world), where she stayed for a year of pure, healthy living. She would ride her pink bike to the Ashtanga Room to do yoga for half the day, then surf and read yoga books for the remainder. “I felt a gradual reconnection to my physical body.” Tiffany then began to live a life true to her authentic self; surfing and