Yoga and Candles

My yoga class (and an early morning phone call) caused me not only to blog late, but preempted my original writing material; my Paris trip.


I have not gone to a yoga class since mid August when I ripped two muscles in my left (dominant) arm during my second anti-gravity class. Luckily for me the rips were minor and did not require surgery, only physical therapy. They did however, ground me for months. I returned just this week, my first class was yesterday. Today’s class is with a different teacher, at a different studio. The owner, who generally teaches Tuesday mornings, had a ‘sub’ instead. I do not remember her name, and did what I tend to do almost unconsciously (don’t you hate that), I judge. Once I am actually able to hear myself, I try to calm that incessant (and annoying) voice. I breath, slow down, set up, talk to others in the class, and basically distract myself from the chatter. She started reading a meditation haltingly, without flow or commitment. Plus, she didn’t enunciate and I missed most of what she said. But what I did catch inspired me. She was reading about the worth of inner beauty, how we spend too much time on our love of youthful appearances, the way we look outwardly, and not enough time on what’s beneath the surface, who we are, how we behave, our real beauty, if you will.

Then, without further hesitation, she starts the class.  It was a good class by my standards: tough, but careful. We worked hard, with deep stretches and long held poses, She pushed our limits without injury. She had our attention as she demonstrated the poses and then walked through a sea of colored mats to assist each of us in managing the best pose our body would allow.

At the end of the class I felt renewed and calm. And thankful that she, and I, took time out of our schedules, to take care of ourselves and each other. A nourishing activity with an attached lesson: be careful how you judge and with what criterion – a sheep may hide the personality of a blustery bear, and an unapproachable lion may roar because he feels like a kitten. Trust your instincts and know your worth.

About wendykarasin

I am complicated and seeking - joy and sorrow, country and city, competition and cooperation. After behavior of a gregarious nature, I require down time to refuel. My loves are children, family, friends, reading, writing, blogging, fitness, and health. I feel most alive when I stay true to my core values. Beauty makes me happy, pain helps me grow.
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