triumph

May 3, 2010 at 9:48 pm 1 comment

Against all odds I finally did find myself in the back of a beautiful room, legs crossed, embarking upon my very first yoga class in three years. On Friday I smashed my fingers on the way to class, rendering me handicapped and light headed. And this morning I tried again only to find the door inexplicably locked and the windows dark. It seems the odds really were stacked against me. But I met Nathan and Echo for a latte, whiled away a bit of time until it was the appointed hour for the next class, and with no hope that there actually would be a class I returned again. And lo! The door was open. I scurried in, grabbed a mat, threw my hair on top of my head, and took a deep breath. I made it.

Two things occurred to me simultaneously. One, I am far more shy when entering a new situation without Echo. My heart was racing a bit when I walked into that class of strangers. I realize how often I nuzzle my face into Echo’s sweet hair when I lack something to say, or focus on her needs and actions when I find myself needing a place to rest my eyes. She has completely opened my world while at the same time protected me from interacting with that very world. Today in yoga class I was simply a woman moving alone, not in the shadow of my children, and it was a little scary.

The other thought is related. With so many years outside of the yoga studio, having secluded myself in the realm of snacks and fairies, I imagined myself a completely different human being. Not different from myself but different from everyone else in class. Somehow I thought I would standout, like an alien with two heads. But as I looked around I noticed that I looked very much like everyone else in the room. They had butts and bellies, and tangled hair pulled back into ponytails. In fact after all those pregnancy hormones and toddler lifting it seems I am stretchier than ever. So I wasn’t even the crickety lady in the back either.

In any case I was so happy. I was pleased just to move my body, to put myself in someone else’s hands, and re-enter that beautiful world of women bending their bodies and physically opening their hearts. The only trouble is I want to go again.

And again!

Advertisements

Entry filed under: Uncategorized.

monster handbook beautiful place of the world

1 Comment Add your own

  • 1. John  |  May 3, 2010 at 10:08 pm

    Wonderful! Now to make it a given that you will go, rather than something you try to do if you can find the time.

    In re the hiding behind children point, personally I find that happening quite a lot. Oftentimes it’s not actually intended – when in a social situation with my daughter it’s often difficult enough to get in a word edgeways in any case!

    But on those occasions when it’s potentially a bit scary, when my introverted self is needing a break for processing, or I’m entering a situation like the yoga class where I’m not at ease through familiarity, then the refuge of concentrated child-focus is a distraction I’m all too ready to employ!

    Reply

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Trackback this post  |  Subscribe to the comments via RSS Feed


Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 32 other followers


%d bloggers like this: