This week of putting values into action didn’t waste any time getting going.
On Sunday, no sooner did I publish a blog telling God I wasn’t up for a game of catch with the “bombs”, when wham, out of the blue one struck. I immediately caught the bomb and tossed it back to God. He tossed it back to me. I tossed it back to Him. And so it went, all afternoon, as I drove the tractor around the yard, until all was good again.
Today I went to yoga in a wonderful mood. A new teacher – was behind the desk. A sleek, tan young man with a soft voice and a sense of humor was charming all the ladies as we signed in. I went inside the yoga room and sat talking with my friends, anticipating a lovely class. Pranayama breathing – okay, so he dragged it out forever, talking not only in between the sets, but in between the breaths – as we stood there holding it. Half moon was much the same, except he’d mumble something – I think it was dialogue, and then talk about other things instead of the pose. So it went on. He either didn’t know the dialogue or just chose not to use it and said whatever he wanted.. Mumble, maybe some dialogue, more babbling…and I had no idea when to start and stop the poses. (He kind of talked like Ozzie Osborne)
I was at my wits end before the end of the standing series. I had to look around the room to figure out where we were, and when I did, I saw everyone else in various stages of the poses. Clearly he had lost control of the class, there was no rhythm to the group, and the mediation of that rhythm that helps engage my mind, was completely obliterated. By tree pose, I was so angry I wanted to just pack up and leave. He was going on and on so long about something instead of starting the pose, I found myself not even looking in the mirror, but turning and staring out the window at the yard below – where there was a toilet bowl used as a planter between two adirondack chairs. Never, in a year, have I even noticed the widow, let alone the yard below, once class started.
Next, down onto the floor we went for the spine series. When he sat down on the podium and began discussing the last play of the Partriot game as if we were hanging at Starbucks instead of in the middle of a bikram class, it was just about more than I could take. I was ready to sit up against the wall and drink water and just hang out the rest of the class.
I was really hating the anger and frustration I was feeling. Usually gauntlets in yoga that have resurfaced from last winter are in the form too hot, too humid, too long in poses, fear, and difficulty breathing. Those I am now adept at fielding, toss to God and move on. Today all of that was perfect – the room, my breath, my energy, – it was him that was annoying me so bad with his gentle voice and mumbling and excessive talking as he took inordinate amounts of time to stop and demonstrate each pose.
It was during the spine series the light went on. This was another gauntlet. This was just like another instructor from last winter that drove everyone nuts, revisited. When he was annoying everyone, I jumped in on the locker room complaining a little, and remember feeling bad about it. Now, recognizing this as another gauntlet for October, I had to resort to my values and lessons I learned this year and pull myself out of this one.
I immediately started catching the bombs of emotion rolling over me, and spent the rest of the floor series pitching them back and forth with God. Between dealing with my anger, and this teacher’s total confusion with the dialogue, I was getting into the wrong pose and my friend next to me had to actually touch me and say “no, not that one yet.” Camel absolutely took the cake. At the end of the pose he said “Put your hands..” (indicates the end of the pose) then quickly switched to…”push one more time.” I almost really hurt myself ending, then quickly not ending, the pose. If it’s one thing you do not do in yoga is make sudden, jerky movements and it’s certainly not supposed to be done as a result of the dialogue.
Somehow I finished the class quietly, but was still upset. Laying in the final savasana, I was thinking about all the things I wanted to say in the changing room to complain about this guy, but as I lay there it dawned on me how wrong that would be. I reached for another value – practice deference – keep some things to myself. I quickly scrambled to pick up my mat and get in and out of the changing room, and be on my way home before anyone else, so I wouldn’t be tempted to say anything.
It’s working. I really learned it all. I felt it, thought it, wrote it, and now, use it. God has been a careful and patient coach and teacher. The pitch n catch works well. I actually picture the bomb, catching it, and lobbing it back and forth to God until He feels I totally gave it to Him to deal with – then He stops throwing it back to me.
And so, as another day goes by, mid October finds me a truly changed person, and …I have written.
(Oh..and about the toilet bowl, you just couldn’t make that up!)
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