Yoga-ing

I yoga’d twice this week and I’m sore in places I’ve longed to be sore. My lower abs, between my shoulder blades, the back of my mom-arms, all sore. Not sore in an Advil way, more like, “Hey girl, just a friendly reminder to stand a little taller.” And I find myself replying by cutting back my dessert intake. 

Yoga has been patiently waiting at the bottom of my to-do list, forever. If someone mentions yoga I hear myself saying, “I KNOW…I LOVE YOGA” shamelessly emphatic, as if I have a practice of my own. Truth is, I love the idea of yoga. Yogis seem to have a serene secret I’m curious to learn about. It’s as if they have keys to a portal entering another world, where a different language is spoken, and cell phones are like cigarettes smoke.

“Opening, surrender, presence” are words my body understands before my mind analyzes them, and if you have an instructor with a sultry rasp to her voice and a smile that makes you feel connected, you get transported quickly.

I’ve been pounding pavement with running shoes for years, impassioned by endorphins and a calorie deficit. Readying myself for a run takes me 5 minutes, blindfolded. But when it came time for yoga, I felt lost. What do I wear? Is this a make-up kind of workout? Running shoes seem cumbersome but it’s too cold for sandals. I showed up without much fuss and it turns out, that’s all it takes.

I obviously don't know much about yoga, but I know what it's like to be new to yoga so I have a few heads-up:

Being on time to class actually means be there 10 minutes early to set up and settle in. 

Wear snug fitting clothes so you don’t flash your neighbors while in downward facing dog. Chances are they aren’t looking at you, but still.

I’m pretty sure that when you suddenly forget how to breathe rhythmically, you have found the start line.

Bring your own mat because you will smell it and your pores will make-out with it. You'll want any germs to be your own.

Wear your ponytail either high up or down low so you aren't wobbling your head on the ponytail axis as you lie on your back.

Even though you may be able to run 10 miles or lift a barbell over your head, opening your body and heart to receive takes a new kind of strength.

Google “Namaste”.

Enjoy the figurative language and poetic sequence of poses.

I found that leaving my cell phone in the car is a practice within a practice.

Don’t be judgmental about the way you look in the mirror. Quickly dismiss thoughts like, “I look like I’m squatting over a port-o-potty”.

Don’t wear a bra that has a raised clasp in the back, ouch.

When you feel grace fall upon your pose, I’m pretty sure you should accept that it is.

Don’t be alarmed by the feeling of your mind spinning a little slower for hours after you leave class.

 

At the end of classes last week, I looked around the room and saw something more than bed headed hair and stretchy clothing, and it made me feel comfortable. I thought to myself as I rolled up my mat and exhaled, this is nice.