Catch Me!

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Catch Me!

"Upside down. Who's to say what's impossible and can't be found?" ~ Jack Johnson

I was in a very hot yoga practice, and we were more than halfway through. The day had only half begun, I was only half-caffeinated, and we were in Eagle Pose.

For some reason, I’ve been having trouble keeping my balance in Eagle. I try to find a point in front of me to clear my mind, so I don’t even have to think about balancing, but that only makes me think about it all the more, and over I go.

This day in Eagle, my mind is already moving quickly ahead. Usually, we do Eagle on both sides, right and then left, and then right and left again. Sometimes, after the second time around, we move into bound Warrior III and then into Standing Split.

And then I know what’s coming next. In fact, my mind is already there while I am wrapping myself up in Eagle. At that point, for those of us who want to, we get to pop into handstand or, at least, to try.

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Adventure

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Adventure

“So come out of your cave walking on your hands and see the world from upside down.” ~ The Cave, Mumford and Sons

The other night, I was at yoga, laying out my mat, unwinding it from its bag and doing the same from my day.

I prefer a spot against the wall, where I can try a few handstands without going overboard. I walk along my mat and talk with those nearby, enjoying the switch from my work day to my yoga night, chatting and pacing and popping into handstands.

And I wonder, where else, really, would this seem normal?

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My Son

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My Son

“Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy …” ~ John Lennon

I’ve learned that we never stop growing up, but I have a son who I keep thinking is all grown up.

Or, so it seems to me.

I guess I think he is all grown up because it’s hard for me to find anything that I can still do for him or that he needs me still to do. As a young adult, he lives on his own in another city and has a job and supports himself.

When he was little, I’d pack his lunch, hold his hand, buy his clothes, play endless catch, sit on the sporting sidelines, keep him dry in the rain, and tuck him in at night.

Now, he does all that and more on his own, and I’m certainly not the one tucking him in at night.

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False Starts

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False Starts

ometimes we only think we know where we should be.

The other night, for whatever reason, I was not supposed to be at yoga. I don’t know why, and I never will, but I was not supposed to be there.

That’s not to say I didn’t try. Believe me, I did!

In yoga, we’re told to trust the process. I’ve heard this saying lots of times, but it’s only recently that I’ve begun to understand its meaning. I think it means that we are exactly where we are supposed to be at the time we are there, even if we think we should be elsewhere.

And the other night I got the chance to trust this process.

For whatever reason, my best efforts to get to yoga landed me right back where I started. I don’t know why, and I never will; but, in the end, I think I have to trust that I was just not supposed to be there.

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Embrace

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Embrace

It's impossible to be alone at yoga, even if you walk in feeling that way.

It was a weekend morning, and I was getting myself together for yoga. 

On Saturdays and Sundays, I actually shower, wash my hair and put on a little make up before going to yoga. Sounds strange to do so before working out, but this morning routine is what wakes me up.  

I was like this in college, too, even when just studying. I would wake up, shower, dress and sit among my friends who would all be in their sweats. 

My son calls me the Cal Ripken of getting ready for the day. 

I arrive at the studio and wait for the class to start. I lay out my mat in my favorite spot, and slowly the others start to trickle in. 

I love seeing everyone, and a few people come over to chat and catch up. Some are young adults, the ages of my children, some are closer to my age and many are in between. Yoga has introduced me to so many new people. I did not know that practicing would make me part of any kind of community. 

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Moon

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Moon

Dancing in the moonlight; everybody feeling warm and right. It's such a fine and natural sight; everybody's dancing in the moonlight. ~ King Harvest

In many cultures the moon is tied to motherhood.

It is a constant, always there even if it can’t be seen. The pull of the moon is strong, rocking the ocean’s tides in a timeless lullaby. Its light illuminates the darkness, no matter its shape or size.

I’m a mother, and I’ve got the moon in my chart. I’ve had two astrological readings, one by an Aryuvedic astrologer, and one by a Kabbalistic astrologer. And both speak of the strong presence of the moon, residing in some place with some sort of explanation, most of which comes down to the fact that mothering is big for me, and it’s prominently in the house!

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Certainty

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Certainty

Sometimes you just know what you know.

I’ve always had a bit of a sixth sense, but that doesn’t mean I can see the future or always pave what I think might be a good path. 

This heightened intuition is a knowing that is difficult to describe. The best I can do is to say that if a truth could be touched, it would feel like this. This might sound vague, but the feeling is anything but.

When I am practicing yoga, I can experience a sensation similar to this sixth sense. In a pose or after a practice, a calmness comes at me, and I feel centered and light and surprised. 

It is like the feeling I get when an old favorite song comes on the radio: Oh, I know this!

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Confidence

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Confidence

I’m supposed to find my swag in yoga.

Really, I never knew what it was or where it was or even that I was supposed to be looking for it.

What I was looking for was how to drop into a backbend from standing, and the instructor was doing his best to help.

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Power

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Power

I used to practice in front of mirrors.

I liked it. It reminded me of my long ago dance classes. And it gave me a larger sense of the room because I could look forward and see behind me.

But for awhile now, I’ve been practicing without the mirrors. At first, it was a little unsettling. At one studio, I found myself looking into the eyes of those facing me. In another, I found myself staring at a wall. In still another, I found myself looking out a window onto the busy city streets.

After a while, though, the weirdness went away. Now, it’s not so freaky to look someone in the eye across the room. And the cracks and the slats in the walls and windows serve as my stare points and help me find my balance. The city streets outside the windows are no longer a distraction, and I’ve even watched the rain fly sideways across the floor-to-ceiling windows as I flowed inside while it thundered outside.

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Space and Time

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Space and Time

Does anybody really know what time it is ... If so, I can't imagine why ... - Robert Lamm, Chicago

There’s a song about a time for every purpose under heaven. A time to be born, a time to die, a time to plant and a time to reap.

Turn, turn, turn, is the refrain of this song that gets its words from the bible.

But does time really turn over? Or is that just how we experience it?

My yoga practice is pretty athletic. It does not involve any deep thought about time or space, but afterwards it seems to put my mind in exactly that place.

For me, the practice makes a space where I can access some kind of spark that I think has been inside since the day I was born and that’s perhaps been in all of us since the beginning of time.

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My Spot

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My Spot

I have a favorite spot in each of the yoga classes I take.

At one studio, I like to set up on the left in the front row. At another, I like to be in the middle of the back row. At yet another, I like to line up my mat in front of one of the many windows.

I wonder what I would do if the instructors insisted on our choosing different spots each time?

As a yogi, I hear so much talk about transformation and moving in new directions. And while I think I’m doing my best to evolve and transform, I know my tendency is to find what’s comfortable and set up shop. 

The other night, I was on the later side and someone was in “my spot”. So, I put my mat down a couple spaces to his right. But then I realized I was front and center, and I decided I didn’t want that. So, I got up and put my mat to his left in the space right next to him.

Hope you don’t mind if I go here, I said, as if my indecision needed an excuse.

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The Spill

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The Spill

I’m a pretty careful person.

I’m a planner and a thinker and an organizer.

I like things in their place, stacked and folded.

I’m not speaking necessarily of the parts of my life that can be seen, like my clothes and papers and such around the house. I’m more talking about the parts that can’t be seen.

The parts that are naturally kept under wraps, like most of us have.

I have friends that can talk about anything. And they do, often to me. I think that’s because they know I will make a neatly folded pile for them, too, set it aside and leave it undisturbed for safekeeping.

This is what I’ve done for myself over the past many years.

It’s just that I didn’t really realize how tall my piles were getting and how many had sprouted. I didn’t know they were taking up so much space and resting at their teeter points.

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Silly

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Silly

It’s been almost three years. Three years of handstands.

When I first started yoga, I would not go upside down. I knew I could do it, but it just felt so silly. I’d often goof around with my kids and only a couple years earlier, before even finding yoga, I had done a headstand on Skype for my daughter and her college roommates.

So, it’s not that I was never silly. It’s just that I was never so in public. And the yoga studio counted as being in public.

Then, one day, it was just my daughter and me in a private lesson. In my mind, this was not public, so upside down I went.

And then, almost every day thereafter, I only wanted to be upside down.

Headstands led to forearm stands. Forearm stands led to handstands. I could not get enough and still can’t.

And now I can’t remember what there was to ever feel so silly about.

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Stuck

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Stuck

If you think back to where you started, you can always find the joy in where you are.

This is how the instructor opened the morning’s yoga class.

This instructor is such a young man, and I can’t figure out how he has such insights at half my age.

This is what my grandmother always told me, he said.

Aha! 

Interestingly enough, that morning, I had awakened thinking about how far I had NOT come. All I could think of was how STUCK I was, and the day hadn’t even started.

How did I wake up stuck?

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The Spider and The Fly

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The Spider and The Fly

Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly.

A warning to the naïve, this phrase has twice been directed at me. 

It references a poem by Mary Howitt published in 1829 about a naïve fly ensnared by a less than honest spider.

I have met some spiders in my time; but, I really never thought myself to be the fly.

Why, then, have I bumped up against these words more than once?

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Crown

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Crown

Something's going on in my head!

I have to admit that what I like best about yoga is the workout. Each and every time, though, I am surprised by the after effects.

There is something spiritual about each practice. No matter the studio, no matter the instructor, no matter the style.

I’m not always conscious of how the practice touches my spirit; instead, I just know that I feel different afterwards.

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Humbled

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Humbled

Last night was my first time back on the mat in a month.

My wrist had been healing, and I did my best to stay motivated, trying to walk and run and stretch. But, by the end, I really was just spending my time waiting to come back. 

On the day I was cleared to practice, I thought I’d be so excited, but as the day wore on, I got more and more out of sorts. By the time I got home from work, I was not sure I’d even go. 

I knew at the end of my month’s rest, I would lose a little strength and flexibility; however, I did not think I would also lose a little confidence.

I couldn’t believe I was considering giving myself another week at home. 

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Injury

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Injury

I need a back up plan for yoga.

I’ve hurt my wrist, and the doctor has ordered a month’s break from yoga.

I’ve been practicing almost three years, and this is the first time I will go without yoga for more than a few days in a row.

The anxiety is starting to build. I had myself on a full speed ahead yoga schedule, combining two types of practices at three different locations for a total of six times a week.

Coming to a hard stop seems unimaginable. 

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Mentor

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Mentor

'm learning from the other side at yoga.

I am relatively new to a nighttime practice, not so close to home.

And for this reason, most all of the yogis, save one or two, were strangers when I first arrived.

But the energy in the room seems to tie us together and, at the end of each practice, I often feel a sort of kinship with my classmates, even the ones I still don’t know.

In this class, half the room faces the other half. And now I’ve made some buddies on the other side.

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Validation

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Validation

It's not always easy to tell the truth.

You can’t find the truth anywhere but in yourself.

These were the instructor’s words as we lay in pigeon pose the other night in yoga.

You can’t find it in a book, you can’t find it in your teacher, you can’t find it in anybody else.

I must admit his words brought me up short. If the truth is inside of me, then I want to know where exactly!

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