Yoga Postscript

Yesterday, after writing about being down and trying to figure why (and how to change it), I went to yoga. Hot yoga (moksha) -- and it kicked my butt. I brought all my negative feelings and sadness with me, and physically it was one of the hottest, most challenging, people-packed and energy-draining classes ever (plus I hadn't had enough water throughout the day -- not advisable). Granted, it had been nearly two weeks since I'd done yoga, and it showed, but I really think it was more my attitude that affected my practice. I got halfway through and my body was just done. Spent. Worked out out. It wasn't a great practice physically.

Mentally -- now that's another thing altogether. Interesting thing happened...halfway through this crazy 90-minute practice, when we transition from all the standing postures to the seated and spinal strengthening ones, we rest. Shavasana. Supine, eyes closed. The point where everything becomes relaxed -- breathing, muscles, body, most importantly, mind. My mind of course was running wild at this point -- this point that only exists to focus on your breathing and body and to meditate not ruminate. Our teacher actively guides us through this posture -- helping remind us to let everything go -- thoughts, judgments, opinions, effort...giving us cues and instruction about how to better do this. And the strangest thing happened.

She said: Think about what you need to be happy.
I thought: (all at one time as I chuffed slightly at the ironic humor of this question, especially considering my frame of mind) wellthat'seasymoretimewiththeboyabetterjoborevenbetter,part-timejobsoIcouldstayhomewhatastupidquestiontoaskmeofallpeople....

And suddenly in the middle of this crazy freight train of thoughts that was literally pouring through my mind at breakneck speed, this strong, confident, powerful, calm voice said over all the insanity: THIS.

And suddenly, everything else was silent, unimportant.

She said: Think about what you need to be healthy.
I thought: (immediately, instinctually, without a pause) THIS. The smile on my face grew a bit.

She said: Think about what you need to be peaceful.
I thought: THIS. A resounding thought, and my smile grew even wider, and then I sighed with contentment at the realization of this wry, unexpected truth I had discovered.

The rest of the practice went as expected -- meaning not so great because I was well and truly at my physical limit, and I paid for it the rest of the night with a headache from pushing too far. But mentally -- well, let's just say I walked out of there feeling lighter and thankful and balanced and confident and at peace. And marveling that this voice in my head had finally (too) heard enough of my complaining and sadness and took the perfect opportunity to remind me about what was good. And important. And right. And to forget about the rest and be thankful for everything else.

Yoga is so cool, no?