My Feet
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I never really gave my feet a passing thought.
I have just taken them for granted, even with my father as a practicing podiatrist for nearly 40 years.
But yoga has changed that.
Read MoreYoga Speak is a written manifestation of my practice. When I move, what comes to life on the inside begs for air on the outside, and my words are the breath that make that happen.
Movement
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From one day to the next, I look forward to yoga.
It has been more than a year since I first stepped into the studio, and I never tire of it.
I like preparing to go. I like being there. I like the workout.
And, in turn, I like whatever it is I am doing afterwards.
The after effects of each class stay with me until the next class, and so I go as often as I can.
It is a good place, and it puts me in a good space.
Read MoreWarrior
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We were standing in Warrior II, a pose that at one time was my favorite pose.
Arms extend front to back, the legs lunge forward, and the hips open to the side.
At one time, Ihad thought this pose was easy. Now, I beg to differ.
95 degree heat. Sweat dripping down every part of my body.
The class is an army of warriors, and the instructor is our commander, pointing out minor adjustments to everyone in the room.
Read MoreChicken Little
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When I was little, the mean girl in the neighborhood just terrorized us.
I was five or six years old and hung with my sister, older by a year. I felt safe with her. This girl would sometimes join the other kids from the block when we played outside in our backyard.
One day the mean girl pointed to the sky.
We looked up and saw an airplane’s leftover white trail cutting the sky in two.
The sky is falling, she hollered! The sky is falling!
My sister ran, and I followed, convinced the white line had sliced the sky from the air.
We yanked open the screen door to the kitchen and let it slam behind us, considering ourselves safe on the inside while we peered fearfully at the sky outside.
I am afraid to say that I have sort of relived this scenario as an adult.
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