Climb for Hospice

Last night I went to Open Space Yoga to attend the first class I have been to in about a year’s time. I was a bit nervous, to be honest. What if can’t do the poses anymore? What if I forget how to do the Sun Salutation? What if I am standing in Tree pose and then fall over, knocking another student over, who in turn knocks another student over, who knocks one more student over, and that student hits their head on the wall, gets knocked unconscious and has to go to the hospital? What if I look over at other students and get jealous that they’re all way more bendy-bendy then I am? Right now, I am about as flexible as an empty cereal box. What if they… laugh at me?

I must admit, I was way more unprepared for this class than I had thought. I felt like a frozen marshmallow… being hit with bricks… while encased in a paper bag. I stumbled my way through the class, and was so very grateful for the soft lighting, given that my face was beet red from embarrassment.

I also quickly realized that I had forgotten the importance of, you know, breathing. Breathing is apparently a very key part not only of yoga, but of basic existence. I remember that when I started yoga a few years ago I was shocked at how ineffective my breathing was. I had absolutely no idea how to breathe properly. It was a very strange sensation to be awakened to the fact that for the past 30 years I had been breathing wrong. I blame my mother.

Even though it will be challenging, I am very happy to be back in the yoga studio. Just that one class really showed me how stressed out I am right now. I had no idea. I have a lot on my plate and feel pretty darn overwhelmed. It will be nice to have a chance now to stop, breathe, reconnect and focus on a regular basis. This sponsorship from Open Space Yoga is a gift in so many ways, and I am grateful for it.

And hey, if nothing else, I’m pretty sure that whole breathing thing will come in handy when I’m climbing Kilimanjaro, right?