So, the oms. These new oms start quietly and by the time we start chiming in, the next one's been almost secretly introduced. No way we can catch up. The sounds are jarring, almost discordant. Instead of joining together, everyone's struggling to fit in.
I don't know that anyone else noticed. But I felt this nudging challenge in a way. Are you with me? Tuned in? Too late? Unaware? It was a subtle shake up to om comfort. One could call it passive aggressive om-ing.
It got me thinking about spring.
Spring is a passive aggressive season. One day you're in flip flops and t shirts. The next it's back to scarves and boots.
Spring is passive aggressive. It says one thing but doesn't really mean it. It's all about mixed messages. It often leave you scratching your head, annoyed at yourself for not better reading the signs. For not bringing an umbrella on a perfectly clear day or wearing a warm sweater and the sweltering all afternoon.
Maybe the yoga teacher was tapping into spring's ambivalence. It's occasionally sharp edge amidst the budding trees and burgeoning petals. Keeping us on our toes and grateful for the loveliness by giving us moments of discomfort.