Yoga class. I started with some trepidation, but it's become a pretty regular part of my life. Babygirl and I make it to two to three classes weekly, and are the better for it. (Babygirl noted today, as she bent down with a dustpan, that it's easier to do chores like that one now that she does yoga regularly.) Since I had no idea what one did in a yoga class, I've learned a few things.
I've learned that I CAN stand on one leg, reach one arm out in front of me and reach back with my other arm and grab my foot. You know, the one that ISN'T still on the ground. I've learned that I'm not the only person who can only do this pose on one side, but not the other. I've learned that I'll never figure out why they name poses after awkward animals. No pigeon I ever saw ever looked like anything that I or anyone else in the room is attempting to do. And, like Citygirl, there is a part of me that giggles everytime I imagine rooms full of adult people all over the world lying on their backs hanging onto their feet for dear life in the Happy Baby pose.
But I digress.
While yoga itself is not a religion, it is a meditative practice, at least at our studio. Each class begins with setting an intention: What are you focusing on tonight? It can be as simple as peace, or self acceptance, or a more complicated thought.
The other day, the instructor gave us this quote:
"These mountains that you are carrying, you were only supposed to climb." *
My brain literally stopped.
In one sentence: This is what we are doing wrong. This. Is. What. I. Am. Doing. Wrong.
This quote has been bouncing around my head for three weeks now.
Ash Wednesday is this week. It's time to contemplate Lenten discipline. The last few years it's been about giving back, being kind. This year? Well, how do you figure out how to let go of the mountains? To put them down and not pick them up again? How do you just climb?
Time to re-route the journey a bit somehow. Stopping my brain was an excellent starting point.
*quote attribution: Najwa Zebian