This week I felt good enough to go to a yoga class. (I go to Tosa Yoga on North Ave.) It felt incredible. I couldn't do all the positions, or do the rest of them as deeply as I'd been learning to, but it still felt good.
I went on a day different than my usual class, so I didn't know anyone there. It soon became evident that the woman next to me was pretty new to yoga. And she didn't like it. It was an altogether odd feeling to be so immersed in the pleasure of an experience, only to hear someone at the same time declare they hated it.
I love the awareness of body that yoga offers. To me, it just feels healthy. To feel muscles often abused or ignored respond slowly is invigorating. It's similar to sex. Sex can be exercise, repeating motions, focusing on the end result. Or it can be yoga, focused, aware, unhurried, encompassing all the body. I'm sure there are more things sex can be, but that's not what this posting is about.
At the end of the class, as we did our shavasna, I imagined the stress leaving my body, and fell into a peaceful meditation. Suddenly next to me I heard a growl. 'This is NOT relaxing!' I am still befuddled at the polar extreme between myself and the other student. And I still wish for her a less tense experience.
Regardless, I'm grateful to be in this class. And I hope to continue to be.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment