In yoga class, when I feel myself falling out of a pose, I quickly think “The breath, focus on your breath…” and so many times I am instantly calmed and go from flopping around like a fish out of water, to regaining balance and settling into position.
Again, my yoga practice reaches out into my everyday life. A few times when fear has gripped me or I got sucker punched when something hit me from out of no where, I went to the breath. It immediately calmed me and let me feel the presence of some being larger than me. I regained focus and was able to stop myself from reacting impulsively (a very big leap for me, who usually dissolves in tears, takes on all the blame, and then tries to fix it.) Now I am able to see some things cannot be fixed – immediately anyway – and require time and patience. As a type A who barrels through life at a breakneck speed – and has from the time I could walk, as my father tells it- time and patience for me, is foreign territory.
The good thing is, through yoga, I actually see progress in this area. I DO approach each day just a bit slower and more peaceful. My yoga practice is my work for now. Work, serious work that needs to be done on myself. I so look forward to getting there every morning and spending time slowly turning inward, never knowing where the class is going to lead me on any particular day, what new lesson needs to be learned or what new idea will be presented in the instructor’s dialogue, and then being able to face the world (albeit some days it is only me in my world) a little gentler.
And so, another day goes by, House is on tonight, I am moving a bit slower, and…I have written.
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