Sneaking out for yoga is always a treat. As an instructor, I practice regularly on my own, but there is always something magical about being a student in the yoga studio, too. I am reborn, challenged, surprised and delighted when I’m not the one at the front of the room. This is not to say that I don’t love teaching yoga, too, because I do! It ignites me in a way I never thought it would. But taking a class is another rich pleasure in which I find gratitude and peace.
This morning, Hubs surprised me. “I can take LM3 to camp,” he declared in the kitchen, work shirt tucked, Crocs flip flops afoot.
“You should catch that yoga class,” he said.
Because my favorite practice is hot yoga, I always feel a nervous energy cook inside mE ahead of a class. I ask myself if I’m ready. Did I eat enough food? Am I well hydrated? Did I sleep well last night? I have heard of others passing out or getting a head rush and in a 97 degree room. I prepared to avoid those things.
“I don’t know,” I said, packing lunches for the kids, snarfing my yogurt, sipping tangerine and lavender tea a little too fast to enjoy it.
“Really?”
“Yes,” he said, “you should go.”
I agreed.
I grabbed a mat, filled a water bottle, grabbed a dirty(?) towel and shuffled our boys into the car to drop them off for their camp, which starts 30 minutes ahead of LM3’s camp. After dropping the boys, shouting phrases like, “Be kind! Have fun! Make new friends!” I headed toward the studio in Malvern, full of energy and excitement.
For the first time this year, I would arrive early and lapped up the sweet pride of accomplishing something so small but meaningful. I would have time to select a great spot in the room for my mat. I would have time to settle into my consciousness. I would have a few minutes to breathe peace into the space before we began.
I pulled into the parking lot and found myself parking next to an Indian guy smoking a cigarette, leaning against a silver Nissan. Maybe it was an Acura. Either way, 9:15 seemed early to be smoking. Something kept his attention on his phone. I stared at the man and wondered, how did I get so lucky? How am I not the person sucking back on a cancer stick at 9 a.m.? How am I the one heading into a space to practice my peace with a room of lovely humans who share my version of awesomeness?
Gratitude filled my heart. I was thankful my husband found the gift of time to share with me. I was thankful to have taken care of my body in the morning, getting enough food and water to fuel my practice. And I was thankful to have the focus and energy to engage in the challenging poses ahead of us. What did I do to earn this life? What did I do to have so much good fortune and blessings?
I filled my heart with peace and sweated my butt off for 60 minutes. I think this made even more room for peace.
Have you experienced these kinds of feelings from yoga? What do you feel before or after class?
What else brought you peace this week? Share the peace!
4 the Love of Peace 