Tuesday, July 17, 2012

rolling oms

After chanting final oms during a yoga class last week, sun glowing through shimmering orange curtains, walls dancing vibrant sunset hues, I thought about how many times I’d be there. Not exactly there as in color, time and space, but how many times I’d been sitting up from final rest, stretching my arms over my head, breathing easier than I had been an hour or so before.

The numbers started coming together in my head.

I’ve been practicing at Laughing Lotus for seven and a half years. That in it self made me stop and ponder for a moment. Back then I’d been taking classes at my gym but knew it was time to take the next step. Or, as it felt to me at the time, jump off the yoga cliff. I’d decided to try all the studios in my neighborhood—there are many—and started at Laughing Lotus.

I never went anywhere else.

I’d found my home.

My first class had been in that same studio. Gods and goddesses radiating from murals on brightly painted walls. Sunlight streaming through enormous windows. Soundtracks that inspired and made me laugh. The thing, one thing, about Laughing Lotus is that I laugh. Often. Not something I thought came with a yoga practice but to me flowing and laughing go together.

They get it.

Anyway, back to numbers. I practice a minimum of twice a week. Which is 100 classes or so a year. Of course there are vacations, and injuries (shoulder, wrist), a surgery, sick kids. But, I generally practice more. 3 or 4 classes a week much if not most of the time.

Which, at the very minimum, brings me to over 1000 classes.

One. Thousand. Classes.

That’s a lot of yoga.

That’s a lot of chanting, breathing, moving, stretching, learning, growing, flowing.

I thought about how much more comfortable I am in my skin. About how I now move with grace in my practice when I used to be self conscious and stuck. About how easily I can do a headstand in the middle of the room when that wasn’t even a remote possibility when I started.

About how I sing loud and true instead of feeling uncomfortable and unsure.

About how much this practice has saved me when I didn’t even realize it.

About where I’d be if I didn’t take care of myself this way.

About how yoga is more than time on the mat.

About how far I’ve come.

About how far I still have to go.

About how grateful I am for the here and now.

Namaste to all my teachers—every class has been a blessing.