This past week has been anything but easy, so to say I was scared of going to yoga last night would be an understatement. Now, there’s something you should know about me and my yoga practice. To me, yoga isn’t necessarily a spiritual experience, but it is a space for me to be completely selfish and self-reflective. So, in that sense, it gives me a chance to experience spirituality. And what I experienced last night was everything I needed to pick my dreary soul up out of the puddle.
After our opening sun salutations, the Redeemer of the Groupon suggested we work with partners to assist each other in moving farther into our downward dogs. I was recruited as her demonstration partner so I sank into my downward dog in the front of the class while she pushed my hips, pulled my thighs, and encouraged my heels down to the ground. It all felt very surreal. Downward dog has been a bit of a challenge for me over the last year, but last night, it just seemed to work. I was there. I was in it. My knees were straight. My heels were on the ground. My shoulders were away from my ears. I felt like, if Maddie were standing next to me, we could both do the posture and I would actually resemble her in her morning stretch. After all the conventional ways of assisting each other into the posture were tried, the Redeemer of the Groupon demonstrated a new method for facilitation. The Double Downward Dog.
Being the person on top, I can assure you it did not look nearly as fluid as it could have, but it worked. Nobody fell. Everybody breathed. And when we all came out of the posture, we laughed. And it was genuine, that-was-fun-I-can’t-believe-I-did-that laughter, not the awkward, laugh-because-I-don’t-want-to-cry laughter I’ve been using all too often the last few days.
That laughter was what I needed to really express the postures for the rest of the class. And those expressions seemed to awaken parts of my body that had fallen stagnant over the last year or so. So much so, that I actually felt comfortable moving into full wheel–something I haven’t done in close to two years–TWICE.
Toward the end of practice, as I settled into ear-pinning pose, I had another giggle–this time to myself. I thought, what if Bob saw this? I could actually hear him making gross comments and see him making crazy gestures as if he was sitting on the mat next to mine. And as I rolled out of the pose and flattened myself into savasana, I felt a shiver run up my spine as if he knew I was thinking about him and he was laughing too.
As it turns out, sometimes you just need some zenny fun to refresh your soul.