Seasons change. Change is hard. And this seasonal transition to Fall feels like a doozy.
For the past week I haven’t been able to think clearly. My body felt like a bag of bones. My teaching was confused, uninspired, and tired. What the hell?
But then I attended a yoga class. And amazingly, every stretch and extension felt like sloughing off something old from the inside out, and awakening some new liquid energy. I was waking up, forming myself anew. I was sweating profusely and breathing deeply. I let out unexpected sighs. Loudly! I was meeting my best self, the magic self that can do extraordinary things.
A cobra wasn’t just a cobra, but a one-of-a-kind work of art, created specially by me. A forward bend was a whole back body awkening, a massage tugging at my muscles, guiding me to where one attached itself to another. I didn’t know what was happening and I didn’t care. For the first time since I could remember (a true confession), I actually wished class would last longer. I wanted to stay in this space of renewal and perfection. I knew there was more tension to unleash, more cramped sleeping positions to undo. This felt like a tremendous beginning. I needed more.
But wait–Of course there would be more! I practice yoga. I teach yoga.
I remember why I come back to yoga: Because it feels so good.