Tuesday, September 13, 2005

A boy, his bag and a yoga mat

I did it! I survived my first weekend at yoga boot camp! Never in all my days would I have believed that I could get into plow position before 9:00 AM. That was a pose saved for the end of the day. After I had walked, stretched, scratched, relaxed and moved about for 10 or 12 hours. Oh I had tried doing it in the morning before, but as my ego insisted on getting my toes to the floor, I only ended up giving myself a sore neck. Not this weekend. By the time I discovered I was capable doing such a thing, I was already up and moving for about 3 hours after our “wake up” call. None-the-less, I was tickled to be able to do it without making myself, or my neck, snap.

Still Point was wonderful. Intense? Absolutely. But it was also confirmation that I am heading in the right direction. Our manual is the size of a phone book (did you know you can use that to get into triangle pose?) and when I was handed the “Atlas of Anatomy” I had flashbacks of Mr. Towler’s high school science class. Definitely not my strong suit.

Thoughts of “what have I done?” and “what have I gotten myself into?” greeted me EARLY on a foggy Saturday morning. As the day progressed, the tensions of my mind eased (just like those in my body) and I found Sunday afternoon approaching far too quickly.

One thing that really caught me off guard was our Saturday night chanting. I consider myself spiritual although not overly religious. I believe in God. I don’t believe in most of the people speaking on his behalf. So I found it rather curious that as I chanted, sanskrit, I felt guilty. Growing up, attending church on a Sunday was de rigeur. Out on my own however, my practice fell on hard times. After my grandmother died I attended out of respect for her but once I moved to the Middle East, finding a Presbyterian church was not easy. Not that I looked very hard. Apparently though, something stuck during those years, because I felt like I was betraying my faith. I guess the cubes of wonder bread and tiny shots of Welch’s grape juice (NEVER real win for us Presbyterians and everyone drinking from the same cup? No, but thanks just the same.) did the job. I will see how this one unfolds.

I have loads of studying and practice to do before my weekend in October and am nothing but excited about it.


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